


There Are No Facts, Only Accidents

by RenOfDorne



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: 3mix besties, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, F/F, Stripping, Teacher-Student Relationship, jihyo is a milf, married 2yeon, maybe a mommy kink, slight angst with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenOfDorne/pseuds/RenOfDorne
Summary: Jihyo teaches Philosophy and Ethics. Momo, a Japanese international student, only attends her classes in order to keep her scholarship. Uninterested in her academic life, Momo tries out an interesting extracurricular activity. Stripping. Little do they know, they're closer than they think.or,Professor Jihyo/Student Momo AU
Relationships: Hirai Momo/Park Jisoo | Jihyo
Comments: 116
Kudos: 337





	1. Any Questions, Hirai?

**Author's Note:**

> just to clear things up: momo's age in this fic roughly corresponds to her current age, while jihyo is older for the sake of the story. (and to be extra clear: though there is an age gap, it's not big. i wouldn't feel comfortable with that.)  
> that being said,  
> i'm in no way a writer, this is pure self indulgence. not really expecting anyone to read this apart from my close friends, but if you happen to stumble upon it, enjoy!

Momo was so tired of routine. Repeating tasks every single day as if she were stuck in a loop. The most exciting thing that’s probably happened to her has been switching majors at her university. Other than that, it’s the same boring walks from her cramped apartment to class and back, only to be greeted with dishes to do and floors to vacuum.

Maybe that is why Momo decided to _experiment —_ as she would like to call it— with a somewhat questionable extracurricular activity she does once a week. Stripping. Not that she needed the money, but dancing had always been her strong suit, ever since she could walk. She enjoyed the feeling of pleasing others, as long as the _others_ in question were pretty girls. But more than anything, knowing she had absolute control over when to stop is what convinced her to take the job in the first place. It was interesting. Like a spare identity she kept for when she was in the mood for it.

—

On any other occasion, Momo would have been more responsible and would have definitely not brought her sports bag instead of her usual one with her on her way to class. She waited until the last minute every single time, so that leaves her with being in a bigger rush than ever, since Ms. Myoui is currently waiting for her on campus. She took Japanese Literature on her first year at university but ultimately got too bored of it. Her roommate Sana is equally as bored but wouldn’t want to say goodbye to Ms. Myoui —Ms. Myoui being her massive, ridiculous crush— for anything in the world. Momo had always mocked her for it, she couldn’t believe how these clichés actually happened in real life.

She rushed to the office door and knocked on it twice, entering after hearing her professor call her in.

“Hirai? Thank God you got here, I was seriously about to leave.” She was leaning against her desk with her arms crossed over her chest, probably bothered about having to be there so early in the morning.

“I’m so sorry Ms. Myoui, I was in such a rush—” Momo wasn’t sorry in the slightest, she just wanted to get this over with and avoid her professor’s intimidating glares.

“I don’t really want to hear it, Hirai. I’m doing this for you, after all,” The Japanese Literature professor stood up from the desk and handed Momo a pair of loose sheets. “Your timetable.” Momo took them and fitted them as she could into her sports bag without saying a word, “I will advise you to get integrated as soon as possible. My classes are difficult but you’re now going to be taking… ethics? Philosophy and ethics, right? Well, you should know better than anyone that this is not any easier.” Professor Myoui started to gather her things to leave her office, “Also, you should talk to your new professor, Ms. Park. You’ve seen her before, haven’t you?” Momo shook her head. “Oh. Well, you can find her in 205, opposite the library on the top floor.” Before Momo could say anything else, Ms. Myoui had left through her office door. Momo had always thought she was a bit harsh. Maybe that’s what Sana liked about her so much.

It didn’t take her too long to find the class she was looking for. She peeked inside and saw a tan woman with short, brown hair typing on her laptop. She was wearing an expensive-looking beige pantsuit. _Oh, she’s hot,_ Momo instantly thought _._

“Uh… Hello, are you Ms. Park?” The woman looked up from her computer and towards Momo’s direction, and the girl suddenly felt her body tense up.

“Yes, can I help you?” Her voice was deep.

“Yes! Actually, uh… Ms. Myoui sent me? I’m the student switching majors, Hirai Momo.” Momo chewed on her inner cheek hesitantly. She was starting to get self conscious about having brought her sports bag with her, thinking she might be looking so stupid right now.

“Ah, Hirai,” Momo tensed up again at her name being called, but the feeling was different this time. She sounded so authoritative, Momo’s mind was beginning to go places. “Yes, Ms. Myoui told me about you. Come sit down, please.”

Momo grabbed a chair and slid it towards her table to sit in front of her. She noticed she was wearing silver rings on her fingers. _None on her ring finger, though._

“Okay, I have already added you to the list. You should know we have started on Utilitarianism, so evidently you will need to be reading Mill. I will email you this semester’s reading list as soon as I can.” She moved her gaze from Momo to her laptop, seemingly searching for something, “Ah, I had assigned an essay on a comparison between Bentham’s and Mill’s views, which was due Friday of last week, but I’ll allow you another week to get it done, as I think it will be good for you not to fall far behind.” She finished typing something on her computer and hummed as she clicked the tabs closed. Momo just sat there.

“Do you have any questions, Hirai?” Momo caught herself dumbly staring at the valley between her breasts. She felt a warmth pooling in her lower stomach. “Hirai?”

Luckily, Momo snapped out of her trance and looked up at her, a blush tinting her cheeks.

“Uh… No, no. I don’t think so. Yet.” She was picking at the skin on her thumb with her middle finger under the table. “Actually yes. I don’t have your email. You know, to send you the assignments. They didn’t give it to me, and I didn’t really know who you were— Actually, not that I shouldn’t know, but—” Ms. Park just stared at her with a half smile on her face.

“I was going to send the reading list to your address but I can still give you mine in advance. Do you have a sheet of paper I can write on?”

Momo could only take out her half wrinkled timetable and flip it over on the blank side. She watched as Ms. Park grabbed a pen and wrote her email address down on it. Her handwriting looked cute, Momo thought. She put the pen away and handed Momo her paper back.

“You’re Japanese, right?”

Momo felt startled at the unexpectedness of the question.

“Yes, from Kyoto, actually.”

“Oh, very nice. I’d love to visit, someday. Maybe you could teach me some Japanese,” She winked. _Winked._ Momo wasn’t sure if she saw that right. She clutched onto the paper.

“Okay, Momo, that will be all. It was very nice to meet you. I’m happy to have a student like you in my class.” Momo wasn’t quite sure where the compliment came from, but she accepted it nonetheless. She got up from her seat and bowed slightly.

“Thank you, Ms. Park. I will do my best.”

“I’m sure you will. Ms. Myoui had some great things to say about you. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to come to me.”

Momo felt like she was dreaming.

—

“Momoring! How did it go?” Momo was taking her shoes off in the hallway as she heard her roommate call from the living room. She left her keys on the table and dropped her sports bag on the floor next to the sofa where Sana was laying, before dropping down next to her.

“Fine.” She took out her phone and started scrolling through Twitter.

“What do you mean, _fine_?” She turned to Momo, “Did Ms. Myoui scold you for being late? Did she mention anything about the email I sent her?”

Momo rolled her eyes to the back of her head. “God, Sana. How can you be so obsessed over a stupid professor.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Momo glared at her and continued scrolling through Twitter. “And no, she didn’t say anything about your email.” Sana huffed. She leaned over onto Momo and wrapped her arm around her waist.

“Who is your new professor, then?”

“Ms. Park.”

Sana paused for a second and sat up, looking at Momo from a distance. “You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about that?” She stared at Sana lazily.

“ _Ms. Park!_ She’s the one with the big boobs, right? Oh my God.” Momo blushed slightly at her roommate’s remark. She didn’t like where this was going. “Momo, you are so _fucking_ lucky, if I knew Ms. Park would be teaching ethics this year I would’ve switched majors instantly.”

“What are you talking about.”

Sana completely ignored her and went on on her little rant, “That woman, holy fuck. Momo. I think she’s gay, you should definitely go for it,”

Momo froze at the statement, ignoring her advice. “How do _you_ know that?”

“How do _I_ know? Well, I don’t _know_ but it’s a rumour that has been going around for a while. Don’t you just… get a vibe?”

Momo blinked and stared back blankly. “Sana, I don’t know. I was just bored of Japanese Lit and felt like changing,” She paused for a second. “She did wink at me, though.”

“She _what_ now?”

“And asked me to teach her Japanese sometime. But she was just being nice. Plus, I’m not falling for some dumb ethics professor. I have better things to do, you know.”

“Sure,” Sana laid back down onto Momo’s shoulder, watching her scroll through her phone, “keep me updated, then.”

“Whatever.”

—

Jihyo and Nayeon had known each other since their high school days. They had always done everything together, alongside Jeongyeon. All three of them had studied at the same school and have now become university professors at the same university. It was like they couldn’t be separated even if they tried. For Jihyo, though, it could sometimes become a bit much. She considered herself quite the introvert and constantly craved alone time. Unfortunately for her, Nayeon hadn’t quite grasped the concept of personal space even after all these years, so there they were, all three of them, having lunch together in a restaurant close to campus on a Friday after lectures. Nayeon spotted Jeongyeon already sitting at the table and rushed to give her a kiss.

“Seriously?” Jeongyeon wiped her cheek, whining, “Do you _have_ to get lipstick on me every single time?”

“Come on, baby. You’re still in a bad mood?” Nayeon took a seat next to her wife. Jihyo sat opposite the couple, placing her bag beside her.

“Hey, no fighting in front of me.” Jihyo glared at them. They were like teenagers, Jihyo thought. Always teasing each other as soon as they got the chance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to her when we get home,” Nayeon laughs, winking at Jeongyeon. Jihyo instantly cringes at her comment, hating the mental image of her closest friends engaging in sexual intercourse. Nayeon earns herself a shove from Jeongyeon, along with a slap on the thigh.

“Really?” Jihyo huffs, “I swear, you can keep that to yourselves, I don’t need to hear it.”

“Oh Jihyo, what you need is to get laid.”

Jihyo gives her a look of defiance.

“That’s why you act so grumpy! When was the last time you had sex?”

While she doesn't completely agree with her, she knows she’s right, but would never want to give her the pleasure of knowing it. It’s not like she hasn’t tried, though, it’s just that her work is simply too much; always getting in the way of her plans. Her position at the university is considerably respectable; she’s in charge of quite a bit, there’s just so much to do all the time. These days she had even been working on the weekends, her back was always sore and had headaches more often than not. She admits it would be nice to relieve some stress some way.

Jihyo stared at Nayeon, looked at Jeongyeon for help. No help. “Oh come on, give me a break.”

Just as Nayeon was about to open her mouth again, the waiter abruptly appeared to serve their drinks and take their orders. After ordering their food, Nayeon shot right back at her.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I need to?” She took a sip of her water.

“Okay, tell you what. We’re going out.”

“We are _not_ going out.”

—

“I can’t believe we’re going out.” Jihyo sat on the passenger’s seat of Nayeon’s car, already regretting this. Somehow, Nayeon had this _talent_ of convincing anyone of anything. She had proven herself worthy of this trait early on in their school years, managing to make her even absurdest wishes come true.

“Better believe it, we’re almost there anyway,” Nayeon briefly glanced towards the passenger’s seat and noticed Jihyo’s bag of corn chips in her hand. “Feed me one, please.” Jihyo ignored the failed attempt at the puppy eyes and fed her a couple of chips, careful of not distracting her from the road. It was already past eleven. The road was fairly empty, most of the cars had already driven home from work. This was one of those times where she noticed a strange well-being flooding in her chest, a kind of comfort she felt when going out late at night with her friends. Like the illusion of losing control for a bit. Jeongyeon had insisted on staying home that night, leaving Jihyo in a state of apprehension of being left alone with a very much passionate Nayeon, scared they will get carried away with the drinks. The amount of times they had crossed the line had gotten to the point of downright embarrassment. Jihyo peeked at her phone, _[23:21],_ her mind was already drifting off to matters of work. _Fuck, I forgot to send Hirai the list_.

“Hey, don’t space out on me,” Nayeon lifted her right hand from the wheel and placed it on Jihyo’s thigh, “Are you thinking about work again?”

Jihyo furrowed her eyebrows and rubbed her forehead, “No, no. I’m okay.” She smiled at her.

“Good.” Her grip on the wheel was firm as she took a turn, “I think it’s here.”

Jihyo narrowed her eyes when she noticed a big neon sign in front of them, “Nayeon,” She could see the older’s smirk from her peripheral vision. “Did you just bring me to a fucking strip club?”

All she got was a laugh from her. _I’m going to kill her._

—

The beat in the club was so loud, K-Hip Hop blasting from the speakers, blue neon lights flooding everything, lights flashing, two strip poles being occupied by two slim girls, drinks going up and down everywhere, hot people everywhere. _Holy shit_. Jihyo noticed Nayeon trying to shout something at her over the impossibly loud speakers. She signalled that she couldn’t hear by pointing at her ear. She tried again, mouthing “ _Let’s get drinks_ ”. Jihyo mouthed “ _Okay_ ” back at her and nodded. She stared down at her tight black dress, trying to build courage to keep up with her friend. Her cleavage was too exposed, but Nayeon had insisted on not changing. _What am I getting into_.

They went for soju to start with, the plan was to build up from there. The music wasn’t bad, actually. Jihyo was already getting in the mood as she saw empty leather seats displayed around the stage. She tugged the hem of Nayeon’s dress to follow her. Nayeon gave her a smart look,— as if to tell her " _look who's getting excited"—_ , before they sat down and placed their drinks down on the little black-tinted glass tables beside the seats.

Jihyo’s attention was fixated on the girl directly in front of her. She had made sure to keep her close as soon as she had caught her eye. She was wearing all-black; a poor excuse for a bra and a harness covering her torso, accentuated by her abs. She wore yet another harness over her shorts that went over her toned legs. Jihyo felt warmth in her lower stomach only from looking at her. Her muscles flexed as she grabbed onto the pole, her bangs stuck to her face with sweat. Her hold was so firm. When she spread her legs around the pole, Jihyo had to clench her thighs together. The alcohol was beginning to get to her head. She saw Nayeon had also loosened up, smiling at both the girls, probably enjoying the show very much. _You’re lucky I’m not telling Jeongyeon about this_.

At this point Jihyo’s vision had begun to blur out. Nayeon had irresponsibly enough brought them their third round of shots, which was not a good idea for Nayeon, since her tolerance wasn’t even half of Jihyo’s. The girl in front of Jihyo had gotten considerably sweatier as the song finished. The club switched to a soft R&B track and the girl slowed down, rolling her body beside the pole, her abs exposed, flexing at the movement. The rings on Jihyo’s fingers slid easily with sweat as she played with them, her eyes never moving away from the dancer. She wished she could see her face with more clarity; the lights in the club were perplexing and all over the place. Nayeon leaned into Jihyo’s ear. She could barely see her in the dark.

“This one reminds me of your new student,” She pointed at the one Jihyo was interested in. Jihyo laughed at her, sitting back in her chair, beginning to feel dizzy.

The dancer got up and stood against the pole, looking directly towards Jihyo’s direction. She swayed her hips as she walked on the stage, towards the professor. _Wait, wait, what’s she doing_. Jihyo turned to a now giggling Nayeon, “What’s going on?!” She raised her voice for her to hear. _Is she walking over here?_

“Just enjoy it,” She laughed, watching the girl get closer to her friend.

Jihyo turned her gaze to the girl walking towards her, swaying her hips to the slow beat of the music. Before she knew it, the dancer had straddled her hips and placed her arms over her shoulders. _Oh my God, what the fuck_. Her scent was strong, it had a certain familiarity to it that she decided she enjoyed. The girl rolled her body on top of her, lifting her head back, fully exposing her neck. Jihyo had to hold in a moan at the sight. She felt the girl’s sweaty thighs press against her own, slick and bare. Her breasts proudly stood right in her face, Jihyo couldn’t even try to look away, nor did she want to. She placed her hands on the girl’s hips and let them rock along with her movements. When she took a closer look, she noticed a cute mole on the top of her breast. Her movements had become so slow and steady, the professor firmly gripped her sides, feeling the muscles underneath her skin. _Fuck_. In the dark she couldn’t examine her properly, all she could do was feel her weight on top of her and let her scent fill her up. She felt the girl’s hand on her chest, slowly sliding down her breast as she sat on her lap fully to rock her hips back and forth against her skin. The hem of her dress was riding up to her hips, but she couldn’t bring herself to care right at this moment. She could feel the wetness pooling in her underwear.

Jihyo felt like she was dreaming.


	2. Do I Look Pretty Like This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That essay was either a curse... or a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so apparently a few people found this interesting and now i'm hyped to carry on with the story! not sure how often i'll be able to update, mostly because of school, but i have a lot prepared, believe me :')

It rained on her way back home. Momo’s mind was already drifting to the worry of waking Sana up again after the thought of having to take a shower in their apartment. Tonight hadn’t been as bad as other weeks, though, she even enjoyed herself this time. For a while now, Momo had considered dropping her little side gig after her boss had started acting like a straight up prick to her. She had made it clear to him from the beginning that she didn’t want to take it seriously, especially since she’d only be coming in once a week. And for a while, Jinyoung would accept those conditions, for as long as she kept her game up and had customers coming in. Momo assumed these conditions were more on the subjective side of his criteria, considering she’d been working just as hard as she did from the beginning and yet somehow still managed to get yelled at. Sana’s protective nature had pushed her to ask her multiple times why she kept putting up with his bullshit. All Momo could do was brush the questions off with a simple “ _don’t take him seriously_ ”.

The fabric of her jacket and the cheap material of her sports shoes had completely soaked on her way from the bus station to her apartment. Momo cursed under her breath as she felt her socks awkwardly dampen when she skipped up the building staircase. She tried her hardest to take her keys out without struggling with the lock and took her slippery shoes off at the entrance after closing the door behind her. _I just did my laundry yesterday._

Twenty minutes later, she had somehow managed to shower, blow-dry her hair and throw on a comfortable university t-shirt three times her size, all without waking up her roommate. She lay on her stomach with the covers tangled around her legs, inattentively looking at her phone. She checked the time. Almost five in the morning. The last time she had something to eat was hours ago on her way to work, a cheap banana flavoured energy bar.

Past five in the morning already. She could sense she wouldn’t be going to sleep in a while despite being worn out, just like many other times. On a spur-of-the-moment decision, she reached for her laptop on the floor, sat back on her bed’s headboard and began typing her essay for Ms. Park’s class. She only just found out about it hours before, but Momo had read both Mill and Bentham already, —having read different adaptations of Mill’s essay on Utilitarianism twice, even—, so she felt confident in having no need to do external research, apart from perhaps looking up a thing or two, and embarrassingly watching a Crash Course to guide herself in structuring her arguments. She stared at the light emanating from her computer screen for a while, her mind blank. Her thoughts drifted to what happened earlier at work, how she enjoyed herself awfully while she was giving that lap dance. Her thighs still stung from the effort of dancing. She shook her head back to reality and emailed her professor, wondering if she would question why she sent it so early on a Saturday morning.

—

A pounding in her head and a sour taste in her mouth woke Jihyo up from her sleep. Her hair was stuck to the side of her face with sweat and it was suddenly too hot to stay covered in bed. Last night’s dress seemed to remain on her nearly inert body. The hem had ridden up to her hips, exposing her underwear. As she tried to make memories resurface, she lugged herself to the bathroom and stepped in the shower after throwing the remnants of her clothes on the floor tiles. Flashing scenarios of the night before popped up behind her closed eyes, streaks of water streaming down her face. She tried to rub her headache away, but only seemed to worsen the stinging through her eyelids. Last night really happened? When was the last time she let herself go like that? She couldn’t even recall how she got back home. Surely she didn’t drive, did she?

It was already one o’clock when Jihyo heard a notification go off on her phone. A message from Jeongyeon.

_“hey, are you up now?”_

She pretended not to notice the older missed calls from Jeongyeon and quickly typed back her response.

_“i am”_

_“feel like death tho”_

She didn’t have to wait for a response when she put her phone away, Jeongyeon’s name instantly popping back on the screen.

_“believe me, i can imagine”_

_“i’ll drive over to yours in 10”_

_“bringing you lunch”_

Jihyo silently thanked the gods for Jeongyeon’s sense of responsibility over her. She typed an “ _i love you_ ” as a response while coming up with other ways to repay her for another time.

“Surprised you showered,” Jeongyeon teased as she stepped into Jihyo’s kitchen. “Nayeon isn’t even up yet.”

Jihyo yawned as she helped her friend place the containers of food on the kitchen’s sideboard. The smell of Haejang-guk filled her nostrils. Hangover soup, very convenient.

“I figured. Waking up was bad enough for me, can’t imagine what it’s like for someone with half my drinking tolerance.” Jihyo managed to drawl out. She nibbled on some cabbage she had grabbed with her chopsticks. Jeongyeon took care of getting them water and signalled for them to go sit down in the living room.

“I’m a bit mad at Nayeon.” Jeongyeon broke the silence they had been sealed in for a while, food still in her mouth. Jihyo looked up at her while gnawing passively on some beef. She furrowed her eyebrows in a questioning expression.

“If she knew she was going to be drinking, why on earth did she think driving my car was a good idea?” She stuffed her mouth with some more vegetables, leaning across the floor to reach for a spoon, “I mean,” — _slurp_ — “How irresponsible can a person be? I was the one who had to come pick you guys up.”

Jihyo gave her words some thought.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve known,” Her tone was apologetic. “I’m also guilty here, Jeong.”

“Well, you’re both fine now. That’s all that matters.” They relaxed in their places, quietly finishing their lunch. “Did you two have fun, at least?”

That certainly made a couple memories resurface. A shy smirk escaped her lips the moment she remembered that girl on top of her.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You sure did look like it. Both of you were wrecked when you called me.”

“Is it embarrassing that I have no recollection of calling you?”

Jeongyeon chuckled. “For you, maybe. I expected this to happen, anyway.” She stood up to take the empty food containers to the kitchen. “Also… a strip club? Wow.” Jihyo heard her laugh echo from the hallway. As immature as it may look, her cheeks flushed deep red. She took the opportunity to check her email on her phone. An email from Hirai Momo. _Sent at 05:59 AM? Poor girl._ It was the essay she had assigned just the day before. Jihyo was impressed at the punctuality. She saved it for later, lifting her body up to at least try to be of some help to her friend.

Shortly after getting a call from a very whiny Nayeon asking her to _please_ come give her cuddles, Jeongyeon left to go take care of her. They exchanged warm hugs and bid their goodbyes before Jihyo could sit back down on her living room’s sofa, laptop in hand. She was feeling somewhat inspired after receiving Momo’s email so soon, so she set herself to finally send the poor girl that reading list and finish revising her essay by today.

—

Nine a.m. on a Monday morning is not a time Jihyo enjoys spending at her office. After a dreadful weekend of paper-revising and hangover-overcoming, the last thing she felt like doing was sitting in her nice little leather chair at her office desk, doing the exact same work she’d be getting done at home. She secretly admitted to indulging in the cafeteria’s very convenient dark roast coffee, which Jihyo thinks is what’s been saving her all this time.

While she stacked some papers beside her, a shy voice peeked from behind the door. Jihyo felt oddly pleased when she recognised the girl’s voice.

“Ms. Park?”

“Hirai! Come in, please.” She slid her stack of papers to the side, eager to be interrupted by her student.

“Sorry for distracting you from your work,” The girl closed the door behind her, careful not to slam it, “I came to talk to you about my essay?”

“Please, if anything, you’re doing me a favour.” She gave her a sincere smile, “What is it you want to talk about? I’ve revised it already, I have to say I’m pretty impressed by your grasp of the subject. You’ve read Mill before, haven’t you?”

Momo gave her a cautious smile as she sat down in front of her, “Yeah, I guess questioning morality is always an activity on my daily to-do list.” She got a laugh from Jihyo. After a pause, she added, “I was just wondering… I know I don’t really have a right to ask for this since I’m way past the deadline and you’ve already graded it, but I —and you said it was good already, so now I don’t really know— but I wrote it quickly without really revising it, right after getting off work, and I’ve been looking at it now and fixed a couple of things—“

“You work night shifts on Fridays?”

Momo stared back at her, blankly, “Well, kind of.”

“Oh, really? That sounds tough. What do you work as?”

She really didn’t know if she should go any further. She had already shared enough personal details as it is. Jihyo seems so professional, so put together, not at all like the type of person to indulge in these… activities; she’d probably think less of her. Cringing internally, Momo added, “I dance.”

Jihyo nodded, “I see.”

Before Momo could insist on her assignment, the door slammed open, making both of them jump. A well dressed woman stepped in, calling Jihyo’s name, caught mid sentence in a “y _ou won’t believe—_ ”, suddenly startled to see someone else in the professor’s office. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were alone.” Momo recognised her from the maths department outside her faculty. She had a round face and bunny-like teeth.

“I’m with a student right now, Ms. Im. Come back later.”

Momo watched Ms. Im turn around, apologising again under her breath, looking disappointed and perhaps slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry, Momo. Ms. Im and I are close, she forgets about boundaries sometimes.” It was the first time she ever called her by her first name. “So, you want to send your essay again?”

It was obvious to anyone with basic emotional intelligence that Momo felt uncomfortable. “That’s what I was suggesting, but I’ve realised now that I shouldn’t have. Sorry for wasting your time, Ms. Park.” Momo sank in her seat, head down.

“No, no. Honestly, you’ve kind of come to save me. I’d much rather be revising your work than be stuck with all this mess,” She pointed at the mightily large stack of documents threatening to spill all over her desk. “Do you have it here?”

“On my phone.”

“ _Hm_. The corporate address won’t accept personal email accounts. You can send it to my phone instead.” Jihyo searched inside her bag, pulling out her phone, “Here, fill in your contact. I’ll send you a text message for you to save my number too.”

Jihyo noticed how Momo’s cheeks became two shades deeper of red, but said nothing of it. _Cute._

After getting her phone back, she sent Momo a quick text. “Did you receive it?”

Momo pulled out her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen. “ _Text Message from Unsaved Number: «hi :)»”_ She giggled at her professor’s light hearted message, acknowledging how cute it is. “Just have. Let me send you my essay.” She attached the PDF file she had saved and sent it. She took the opportunity to change the contact name to “Professor Park”.

While Momo was busy on her phone, Jihyo stared at her slightly messy bangs, probably ruffled from rushing around all the time. She stared at her sharp nose, the little curve at the bridge and charming mole above the tip, barely noticeable; it looked just like hers. She stared at her lips, full and—

“Okay, I sent it.”

Jihyo snapped out of her trance, directing her gaze back to her eyes. “Very well, then.” She cleared her throat, “Do you need anything else?”

“No, not that I can think of.”

“Let me know if you do, and remember you have class with me later.”

“Yes, I’ll be there.” Momo stood up, ready to walk away, “Thank you, Ms. Park.” The smile on her face was earnest.

Jihyo welcomed her. She noticed the pretty skirt Momo was wearing as she walked away.

—

“Jinyoung called.” Sana raised her voice from the living room when she heard Momo step out the bathroom door. “Something about covering for Yongsun tonight,” She turned back to Momo, who stood drying her hair with a towel behind the sofa Sana was sitting on. “And to buy yourself something new, they will pay for it.”

Momo rolled her eyes. “This is the second time I’m covering for her.”

Sana recognised Momo’s look of disgust. “He said you’ll get a raise this time.”

The older girl exhaled cheerlessly, taking a seat next to her friend. She tucked in the towel she had around her body to adjust it.

“Do you want to come with me, then? Help me pick out a few things?”

“I’m sorry babe, I’m meeting up with Dahyun at the library.”

“That Christian girl?” Momo chuckled, “She’s in my philosophy class, tries to evangelise me.”

Sana let out one of her signature high-pitched laughs, having trouble believing the absurdity of the situation. “Yeah, that Christian girl.” She smiled to herself, “She’s cute.”

“Oh, is there a reason you’re meeting up with her that I’m unaware of?” Momo looked at her up and down, a playful smirk on her face. “What happened to Ms. Myoui?” That earned her a slap on the arm and yet another shriek from Sana.

“We’re just gonna study!”

“You don’t take a single class together.”

They stared at each other, Sana clearly at a loss for words. After a split second of awkward silence, they both burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay,” Sana retreated, “But seriously, we were going to study.”

“Suit yourself. I guess I’ll go alone, then.”

“You better send me some sexy pics at the dressing room, I want to choose for you.”

Momo drew a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, you’ll get to choose.”

The kind of relationship they have is hard to describe from Momo’s perspective. Sana has a very, _very_ affectionate nature, which makes it easier to understand certain patterns in her behaviour, like why she shares random kisses at unexpected moments, or how she flirts freely regardless of the situation. For Momo, on the other hand, it isn’t so typical of her to show affection through physical contact or verbal communication. Sana was an exception. She was her closest friend; her only real friend since she moved to Korea. When they met, Momo felt like she finally had someone she could talk to; relate to, even. It was fair to say both of them felt considerably touch-starved at the time, which lead to a couple of drunken make out sessions and a few sober ones. Those times were long gone, they had both moved past them; but from there, they became as close as they could be. It was only normal for them to keep up the playful, flirty environment they had established themselves in, while still adoring each other.

None of the outfits Momo was given ever satisfied her. Despite only going in on Fridays, she had built her reputation at the club, which of course, always had its little perks. She got to fulfil heroccasional greed in high-end designer clothing shops that she otherwise would’ve never even dreamt of walking by. And the best part; everything was paid for.

She gave the shop’s showcase a quick glance before she stepped in, her current outfit —a hoodie and some old grey sweatpants— poorly matching the luxury of her surroundings. Her eyes promptly settled on two sets of black and red lingerie at the centre of the shop.

“Good evening, miss. Would you like some help?” An attendant appeared from behind. Momo suddenly felt too seen and in desperate need of a change of clothes.

“N-no, no, thank you. I’m fine.” She picked up a couple sets her size and rushed to the changing room, locking the door behind her.

She watched her body’s reflection in the mirror as she got undressed. Momo liked her body. She put on a couple of pounds from eating lately, but she liked that, it made her look healthy. The first set of lingerie she put on was black; it was a simple one-piece bodysuit. A couple pieces of lace adorned the shoulder strips, but nothing special. Momo didn’t bother taking a picture, guessing Sana wouldn’t like it —nor did she, for that matter. The second set is what really does it for Momo. All-red lace bra and panties attached together by straps, with suspenders over the thighs. The colour made Momo’s milky skin look even more daring. She wasted no time in opening her phone’s camera to pose in the mirror. Taking advantage of the vastness of the changing room, she settled herself on the leather stool and spread her legs slightly, bending her knee inwards to balance herself. She arched her body to make herself look inviting and tilted her head to provoke, just a little bit. After a few minutes of self-indulging by taking lewd mirror selfies, she picked out a couple to send and captioned them “ _do I look pretty like this?_ ” in her text. And… sent.

Walking out of the shop with a fancy set of lingerie inside the paper bag in her hand, Momo hears the _ding_ of a new notification on her phone. Probably Sana telling her she looks good enough to eat. But something else crosses her mind, and when she looks back down at the screen for more than half a second, her insides twiddle.

A text from Ms. Park.

“ _Hirai, I think you sent these to the wrong number._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! feel free to leave comments, i love reading them!! ^_^


	3. Pursuit of Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihyo refuses to delete the pictures from her phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the amount of times i chose researching philosophy to write this instead of doing my actual philosophy homework is kind of embarrassing. lol sorry to my philosophy teacher, i guess you'll never be park jihyo

There is no way in the world Jihyo could’ve expected this. _I must be going crazy_ , she silently said to herself as a picture of a lingerie clad Hirai Momo occupied her phone screen. It must’ve been a mistake, but _two_ mirror selfies? Along with a text that read _do i look pretty like this?_ , something felt off. It was just completely beyond her. She typed and untyped countless possible responses to inform Momo of her mistake, not knowing what on earth to tell her student. It was seemingly getting hotter and hotter where Jihyo was sitting. _And thank God she was sitting_.

After her mind goes _fuck it_ and sends her a quick response, her first thought is to open the photosonce again. For some reason she would prefer to ignore, she can’t get herself to delete the pictures from her phone. And after staring for a while, after taking a closer look and maybe inspecting what she shouldn’t be looking at, Jihyo notices something, and suddenly it looks awfully familiar. A mole on the top of her breast. It all comes back to her; the _night shifts_ on Fridays, the _dancing_ , where had she seen that before? A flash of that one night out with Nayeon hit her like a truck, a moment of realisation conditioning her to know exactly what had been going on. It was her all this time. Of course she looked familiar, of course. That night, the girl dancing —no, _grinding_ — on top of her, her movements, her legs, her scent. She couldn’t get her mind off her. It was Momo.

Professional is a word Jihyo likes keeping close in her description, but in a time like this, such a luxury feels unthinkable. Does this mean she paid her student to perform for her? Could she be fired for that? The endless number of emails she has to answer before tonight seem to be the least of her worries right now. She contemplates talking to Momo about this, except it didn’t make sense to her how things hadn’t gotten awkward between them. Maybe Momo wasn’t even aware that one of her customers had been her philosophy professor. She considers whether or not she’s about to commit a colossal mistake, but having the situation eat at her like this pushes her to ask Momo a question. Seeing her student hasn’t responded, she sends another message.

_“Momo, do you remember me from somewhere?”_

Knowing it would be useless to stress herself out with this, she doesn’t bother waiting for a response. One thing she knows for sure; something shifted. The way she had been looking at her student lately couldn’t be justified by mere platonic admiration, no matter how much Jihyo forced the thoughts to the back of her head. For a long time, she hadn’t encountered a brilliant student, let alone a student that made her happily expect kind comments after every single lecture. And even less a student she was excited to bump into in the hallways, or exchange impassioned opinions about their recent reads with. So often Momo would come up to her and thank her after a long lecture, considered to be dull by most sleep-deprived students who tried so hard not to pass out. Seeing someone genuinely cared for her passion made Jihyo’s heart swell with contempt every time. Although she made herself promise she wouldn’t, she peeked at the pictures again. She looked at how her student’s legs were spread open in a nearly obscene manner that made it so hard to look away. She refused to admit it, but it was making her painfully wet. _No one had to know, right?_ What would poor Momo think. Her teacher itching to take the edge off while looking at her body; to describe it as inappropriate would fall terribly short. It was almost laughable. If only Momo knew the effect she had on her.

When it was time to enter the lecture hall, Jihyo felt unsure of herself for the first time in years. Second year students had begun settling down in their seats, some typing on their laptops, some trying hard to force their eyes open so early in the morning —if there was one thing she could agree with, it was definitely that no mortal should be condemned to an ethics lecture before the sun has even risen—, yet, no sign of Momo.

“Good morning everybody,” the professor paced towards her desk, sorting a couple sheets of paper, writing some final notes here and there, “Please come to fill this first row— those of you in the back, yeah, come fill these seats, please.” The piece of brain that would not shut up kept making her wonder if Momo would be one of them. “Okay, last time we left it at… we said we’d talk about chapter four of Mill’s Utilitarianism. Here’s to hoping you all read it this time.” She trailed off as her fingers flipped through the book’s pages. “Of What Sort of Proof the Principle of Utility is Susceptible. Understanding this chapter’s title will clear the path to understanding its contents. When Mill talks about the types of proof Utilitarianism is susceptible to, what is he saying?” She scans the hall awaiting a response.

“He’s talking about how there isn’t always a justification for seeking a greater good?” A pale girl speaks up from her seat just two rows away, her tone hesitant but thick.

“And how does one justify a decision that benefits the greater good as a conclusion but, for instance, results in terrible collateral damage in order to seek maximum pleasure?”

“You can’t.”

“Exactly. That is the problem with Utilitarianism. No matter how established we think the rules of morality are, there will never be a set of instructions to tell us what is truly right and wrong. Now, Kim,” She directs her body towards the student who answered, “Since you also major in theology, I’m sure you’re aware of how this goes about in Christianity. In Abrahamic religions, the idea of right and wrong is reminiscent to what a world of _only_ black and white would look like. There are no exceptions, everything is either right or wrong because there is a divine being that supposedly tells us so. Utility, on the other hand, is a pursuit of pleasure. If we take into account how—“ A knock on the door interrupts her, followed by a black-haired girl timidly stepping in, apologising for coming in late. Just as Jihyo thought her lecture was sailing smoothly, her worst distraction walks right through the door.

“Hirai, it’s good to see you but we have already started the lecture.” The girl looked up towards the professor, her apologetic expression secretly melting her heart. “Please take a seat without further interrupting my class.” She felt like she was being harsh with her tone, but she couldn’t risk the less responsible students seeing how she condones a situation like this. After a brief pause of sorting her notes, she added, “Oh, and Hirai? See me after class.” That certainly stringed something in the girl’s brain, judging by her shocked expression. When Jihyo believed to have finally gotten back on track with her lecture, the unwanted intrusive thoughts she refused to talk about slapped her in the face. Her mind went blank as the image of Momo’s spread legs appeared in front of her like a divine intervention. She gulped, hoping it would go unnoticed. Momo was wearing a shirt tight enough that drew the silhouette of her breasts a little too well, she saw from the edge of her peripheral vision.

“Uh… Where were we?”

“Abrahamic religions, idea of right and wrong.”

“Ah yes, thank you, Kim.”

That had probably been what felt like the longest class in recorded history, for both Jihyo and Momo alike. As the students gathered their belongings and walked out, Jihyo waited by her desk, book in hand, pretending to go over the chapter scheduled to be read by next week.

“I promise it was an accident.” Looking up from her book, she saw Momo standing in front of her, looking a mess. Jihyo sat on the edge of the desk, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I know, Hirai. Don’t worry about it.” She tried as hard as she could to keep her shit together and mentally hit herself for letting a stupid picture make her act like a horny teenager.

“Ms. Park, you can’t even imagine how embarrassed I am. I can totally explain, but I don’t know if it’ll make things worse.”

“Hey, hey,” Jihyo stepped forward to calm a very much agitated Momo, lightly rubbing her arm, “Momo, come on. It’s not a big deal. I know you didn’t mean to send it. You can rest assured that if it had been someone else I would have probably gotten mad.” Realising what she had just said, her eyes shot open, “I mean, because I know you’re a great student, someone else might’ve— you get what I’m trying to say.” She bit her tongue hoping Momo would buy her retaliation. Momo just tittered at her.

“Are you saying you liked the pictures?”

Jihyo’s skin tinted red all the way down to her neck. In her own aberration, she missed how Momo’s startled expression revealed her regret at her own words.

 _“_ No! No, of course not. No— I mean, you looked beautiful in them— Oh God, that’s not what I meant,” Jihyo sank her face in her hands. She couldn’t believe how she let things slip into an even more awkward situation. Momo tried laughing it off.

“I’m sorry. It definitely won’t happen again.”

Jihyo chuckled under her nose, “Right.”

“What, you want me to send you some more?” Momo seemed to be taking advantage of Jihyo’s easy-going nature.

“Okay, Hirai. Get out of here before I report you for unsolicited nudes.”

“They weren’t nudes!”

“I will block your number.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“ _Out!_ ”

—

Momo was more than used to making people feel flustered, but when it came to her professor, it turned into something she found a little too much pleasure in. Her post-shock phase after her little mistake faded off quickly. When she told Sana about the incident, she wouldn’t shut up about it for hours.

“I bet those pictures will be put to good use,” She said, nearly shrieking.

“Sana what the fuck!”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t like that.” Momo stayed silent to her statement, giving her the side eye.

“How many times do we have to go over the fact that it was an accident?”

“Are you sure it was an accident? How could you not see who you were sending them to?”

“I have her saved as Professor Park! And your contact name on my phone has always been Professor Lover, I guess after getting used to your name I completely forgot I had just added a very similar one.” Momo was trying to be serious, but her roommate found that to be the funniest thing she’d heard in years. Her laugh was beginning to sting in her eardrums.

“Momo, you can’t be serious.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

Part of her thanked her little slip-up. In a way, it had brought them closer together and somehow the embarrassement erased any sort of intimidation she felt towards Ms. Park. Well, some of it. Her mind still went back to that one text from her. “ _Momo, do you remember me from somewhere?_ ” The thing was she did. There was something in the back of her head that she didn’t want to give too much attention to, because she wasn’t sure if she made it real things would change.

Friday of that same week, she showed up to the club a little early. She greeted the doorman as she went in and waved at the check girl in the little booth at the entrance. Instead of going straight to the locker room like she usually would, she stopped by her boss’ office. After knocking a couple of times and hearing a faint _come in_ , she stepped in, closing the door behind her. She chose to ignore the framed pictures of half-naked women covering all four walls of the room.

“What, Momo?” _Here we go again with the attitude._

“Good evening to you too, damn.”

“Why are you in so early today? You should’ve called.”

“I wanted to see last week’s guest list.”

“What, you have a regular now?”

“I always have regulars,” She huffed. “I just want to find a name.” She leaned on the desk with her palms on the table. Jinyoung gave her a curt look before giving in. She watched as he typed something on his computer and a document popped up on the screen.

“Let’s see…” He scrolled down through the list, each name appearing on different days of the week, some even multiple times, “Friday… Friday… Here.” He turned the screen to face her and dismissed her with a wave of his hand, signalling to leave him alone as he continued working on whatever he was pretending to do. They always get the most customers on Friday nights, so the list was significantly longer than the others. She checked the names of the people who checked in past nine p.m., past ten, past eleven… _Kim Sunghyun, Kang Daejung, Lee Hyeon_ , not a single woman’s name. _Disgusting,_ Momo thought. As she was about to give up, she spotted a familiar name from the corner of her eye. Registered at 11:39, _Im Nayeon_. Where had she heard that family name before? But before she had time to further question it, her eyes landed on the name registered at the same hour, right underneath it.

 _Park Jihyo_.

There it was. The name she was looking for. It took a while to settle in, and when it did, she realised she had danced for her professor, and they both knew about it. At least that is what Momo assumes, only judging by that intriguing text which could be interpreted one in many ways. _So what now?_ She turned the computer screen back to her boss’ direction, quietly thanking him as she left his office.

Usually the club starts getting loud and busy around eight, with girls coming in to get ready. Having arrived so early meant Momo had the entire locker room to herself, and a little too much time on her hands. After the new found information of what her professor had been up to —and herself, really— landed in her grasp, she unlocked her phone looking for the text that persisted in her mind. She doesn’t know if it’s the boredom or if she really just doesn’t care, but she types a message back.

“ _hey ms park_ ”

“ _yeah i might remember u from somewhere_ ”

And there it is. Too deep in to retract now. She notices Ms. Park goes online and has already read the text. Her eyes glue to the screen when she sees the professor is typing a response. Her heart feels like it’s pumping out of her chest.

“ _Where from?_ ”

It takes a moment for her to gather her thoughts. If she replies, something might change between them. But what could possibly change if they both knew what was going on?

“ _i dont wanna make things awkward_ ”

“ _but im assuming this is about last friday_ ”

Ms. Park read the texts, yet didn’t respond. She assumes she might be getting to what her professor’s referring to.

“ _from_ _work_ ”

“ _i work at a club_ ”

“ _i dance_ ”

“ _kinda_ ”

“ _you were there_ ”

“ _Yes, I see we might be talking about the same thing_ ”

“ _im rlly sorry if this is gonna make things awkward_ ”

“ _but im pretty sure i gave u a lap dance_ ”

Oh, what she would give to be seeing Ms. Park’s face right now. In spite of the absurdity of the situation, Momo could still laugh at herself, just a bit. She crossed her fingers in hopes that her professor would maintain the same cool attitude she’s had towards her so far. And she wasn’t fooling herself; Ms. Park is hot, there is no denying that. Sure, Momo had been touch deprived for months and she’s always secretly fantasised about women who display certain validation towards her, but it wasn’t only that. She was attracted to her intelligence, to her way with words, to her authoritativeness; her as a whole. Sana had progressively found out out about Momo’s increasing _interest_ in her professor, although she’d only brush it off as admiration. The endless teasing was yet to come.

“ _Ok, it would be better if we could talk about this in person lol_ ”

“ _But I’m not sure if there is anything wrong with this_ ”

“ _its fine by me_ ”

“ _i enjoyed it_ ”

“ _jk_ ”

“ _i mean im not_ ”

“ _omg i didnt mean to sound creepy_ ”

“ _ms park im sorry ignore that_ ”

“ _Lol Momo_ ”

“ _It’s fine, we’re both adults_ ”

“ _Plus that happened in our free time_ ”

“ _I don’t think it’s that big of a deal_ ”

“ _Outside campus. Not inappropriate._ ”

“ _well that was ur free time actually_ ”

“ _which u spent coming to watch me perform_ ”

“ _In my defense, I had no idea you did this kind of thing_ ”

“ _Which is completely cool_ ”

“ _I respect it_ ”

“ _But I was dragged there_ ”

“ _I don’t usually… do stuff like this_ ”

“ _i figured_ ”

Somehow the situation sailed more smoothly than either of them had expected it to. When she talked to Ms. Park, she felt like she was being seen. Her mind trailed back to how she straddled her legs and pressed her body against her. She could barely believe that was her. She remembered how her own sweat made her legs slip easily on top of her. She never stopped thinking about her hands grabbing her waist like that—

“ _So how’s work_ ”

“ _dont u have exams to revise_ ”

“ _lol_ ”

“ _Wow, I thought you were one of the good ones_ ”

“ _Can’t a teacher have a break?_ ”

“ _im kidding :p_ ”

“ _im at work rn_ ”

“ _Oh, you’re not gonna send me another accidental pic, are you?_ ”

“ _maybe if u ask nicely_ ”

That might’ve been stepping way over the line, but they both seemed to be in the same playful mood. Momo prayed she wouldn’t take her boldness the wrong way. What she didn’t know was that, meanwhile, at the other side of the line, Jihyo was praying she’d receive another picture.

“ _Go do your ethics homework_ ”

Momo snorted after seeing the message. Having gotten distracted made her realise she had gone short of time when she heard some of the girls coming in, sorting items in their lockers. She took the opportunity to change into something simple as quickly as she could. One last contemplation made her choose boldness over reason, so she proceeded to open her phone’s selfie camera and, making sure her abs were exposed, she snapped a picture of herself. She wasted no time in sending it.

“ _enjoy_ ”

“ _Very pretty, Hirai_ ”

“ _See you in class_ ”

Jihyo couldn’t believe what had just happened. If someone checked her phone right now, she wasn’t sure if it would pass off as anything other than inappropriate. Obsession would be the word to describe it; insistence on being proper. She now had three selfies of her student she would have to explain if someone ever decided to look through her phone. The easy thing would be deleting them, —except, no it wasn’t—, because of course she couldn’t risk losing the sight of Momo’s skin under her clothes. She found herself ever more wanting to plant soft kisses on the surface of her belly. She wondered what Momo would be doing right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so sorry if this was kinda rushed, as i said school is currently killing me ;-;  
> but still, lmk what you think!!


	4. I Like It When You Call Me That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both know what's going on, so why deny it?

“There’s a behavioural biology seminar taking place in a few minutes, you might be interested in it,” Ms. Park mentioned as they walked out of the classroom. “I don’t know, I get the impression you’re into these kinds of things.”

Momo reddened at the flood of attention. They had built a habit of walking out of class together, usually exchanging thoughts on whatever topic they had discussed in the lecture. Momo found herself reading more than just the mandatory books on the year’s reading list to make sure she could keep having these conversations with her.

“I mean, I’ve already finished my classes for today, and it’s not like I have anything better to do,”

“Great! Do you want to come with me, then?” Ms. Park seemed so excited, there was no way she could possibly say no. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to stay by her side a little longer.

“Yeah, why not? How come you’re interested, though?”

“Professor Yoo Jeongyeon is lecturing, do you know her? We’ve been friends since high school, I love sneaking into her classes.” The thrill was noticeable in her tone, Momo’s heart felt like it grew two sizes bigger.

She watched as Ms. Park quickly entered her office to drop off some weight,leaving the binders she was carrying on her desk, and rushed back to her student as they continued walking outside the faculty. On their way there, Momo tried sneaking a couple glances at the clothes she was wearing. She loved how she always wore such formal attire to work. Today she had put on a grey checkered pantsuit with a thin white button up blouse underneath. It didn’t take much observing to notice the first three buttons were loose, generously exposing part of her cleavage. She wondered if Ms. Park thought about the other day’s conversation as much as she did. At first, she wasn’t sure if she regretted sending that selfie, worrying she had stepped over the line and Ms. Park would no longer feel comfortable around her, but she never got that impression from her. They hadn’t addressed it, but Momo was sure they were both aware of the underlying tension it had left behind. They continued their long walk to the other side of campus where the science faculty was, with Ms. Park leading the way and Momo keeping close to her side. When they entered the biology building, someone seemed to have spotted the professor. It appeared to be Ms. Im. _Ms. Im, wasn’t she the one on the list with Ms. Park?_

“Jihyo! What are you doing here?” The woman approached her, a coffee and paper bag in her clutch.

“Gosh, Nayeon, you scared me,” She looked back at Momo, “Hirai and I are coming to inspect Jeongyeon’s class.”

“Oh, hello Hirai,” She briefly waved at her before turning back to Ms. Park, “I’ve come to bring her lunch. Can you believe I told her like ten times not to leave it on the counter? And guess where it was after she left. On the fucking kitchen counter. I swear, this is the last time I’m cooking for her.” From what she was ranting about, Momo guessed they were probably married. They kept walking as the professors caught up with each other. Momo didn’t want to engage in any gossip, but she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“She must’ve been in a rush.”

“So am I! I don’t know why I bother, Hyo. She’s been getting on my nerves lately.”

“Come on, Nayeon. You know that’s not true. It’s not like she was purposely trying to annoy you.”

“But can’t she just listen to me for once? Oh look, there she is,” Ms. Im rushed towards the woman standing right outside the door and gave her a light peck on the lips before handing her the paper bag, “Hey, baby. Last time I’m bringing you your lunch.” Momo heard Ms. Yoo complain about being embarrassed of having her lunch brought to her before her class as if she were her mother.

“I’ll never get used to them,” Jihyo bumped her elbow to Momo’s side, who laughed in response. She felt like at this point Ms. Park treated her as her equal.

Not intending on disturbing the actual students, they took the last row of seats, right at the corner of the conference room. Just as they settled down, someone dimmed the lights to better display the projector.

Momo leaned in to Ms. Park’s side, “How long will this last?” She whispered.

“About an hour, maybe an hour and a half?” She looked at Momo, smiling, “Are you bored already?”

“No, I was just wondering, because I have to get back home for lunch.”

“Why don’t you just get something from somewhere around campus?”

“I kinda don’t have any money on me right now,” She let out a laugh under her breath.

“It’s okay, I can invite you.”

Momo just looked up with a timid smile on her face. She felt butterflies in her belly when she saw how sincere Ms. Park was being. Being so close to her, Momo catches a whiff of her perfume and becomes addicted to it. She tries leaning in closer without bringing too much attention to herself, trying to make it look like she accidentally landed that close to her. Feeling brave, she rests her head on Ms. Park’s shoulder, pretending to feel sleepy. Thankfully, she doesn’t get a reaction. Ms. Park smells of citrusy shampoo and expensive perfume, but Momo notes that she has a prominent natural scent she wishes she’d get more of.

Although she was putting on a show, she ends up falling asleep on her professor’s shoulder, only to be woken up by her after what seemed to be the end of the seminar. She felt a light tap on her head.

“Hey, good thing you were interested in the talk.” A faint chuckle followed.

Momo lousily opened her eyes, staring at her professor’s face, mere inches away from hers. They hadn’t been this close to each other since that night at the club. She froze for a second, and her eyes diverted to her lips, plump and full. She had never noticed how beautifully shaped they were. After an instant, Ms. Park cleared her throat, forcing her to breakaway from her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Momo shook her head as she got off her shoulder, her skin instantly missing its warmth, “I really was interested. I guess I haven’t been getting that much sleep lately.” That had not been the reason she had fallen asleep, but there was some truth in her statement.

“It’s okay, we can catch up on it over lunch.” Oh right, Ms. Park was paying for her lunch. A sting of guilt poked at her for accepting it, but she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

They stopped before a fast food restaurant she had never seen before, just outside campus.

“Do you fancy this? I come here all the time with Ms. Im but we can go to a nicer place if you want.”

“I’m more than fine with this, Ms. Park,” She gave her a suggestive smirk as she added, “It’s not like you’re taking me out on a date, anyway.” There she goes again, looking for a reaction. To her dismay, all she gets from her is a chuckle.

“I’m not this cheap, Hirai.” Perhaps it wasn’t her intention, but the comment made Momo weak in the knees.

Over lunch, Ms. Park didn’t appear to be too talkative. Instead, she listened to all the things Momo had to say, nodding as she followed her little rants. What surprised the girl the most was the amount of noise Ms. Park made when she ate. She considered it unexpected for such an elegant woman to chew mercilessly on her food and slurp at her drink, but instead of being bothered by it, Momo thought it was the cutest thing ever.

“Was work okay last week?” It had been the first comment she heard from her in a while.

Taken aback by the unexpectedness of the question, Momo tried teasing her.

“You seem very interested in my work, Ms. Park.” She sipped at her drink, failing to break eye contact.

“I thought we were having a civilised conversation just now,” Ms. Park didn’t bother looking up at her, steering a fry in the ketchup on her plate.

“I’m teasing you,” She grinned.

“You think it’s okay to tease your professor? And there I was thinking you were my favourite.”

Momo understood she was joking, but wondered if there was any truth in the latter assertion.

“Am I?” She suggested, “Your favourite student?”

“Maybe.”

“Nice to know.” She tried holding back a proud smile. Sensing a long pause approaching, Momo continued answering her question, “Work was okay, by the way. It’s just a little side job, though, so it’s not like I give it too much attention.”

“Oh,” Ms. Park shifts in her seat, lining up the objects on the table as she continued, “So you enjoy it, then?”

“I like it. My boss is kind of an asshole, though. I was thinking of quitting because of him.”

“Really? I’m sorry you have to put up with him,” She seemed genuinely interested in everything she had to say, “But Momo, I— I don’t mean to offend you, but I never would’ve thought a person like you engaged in things like—”

“A person like me? What, a person majoring in philosophy and ethics? Because you’re a philosophy and ethics professor, and you were there the same way I was.” She rendered her speechless, a hint of regret in her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Seeing the discouraged expression on her face, Momo felt stupid for taking offense. What could’ve been a regular conversation turned into a moral debate.

“No, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I guess I’m hyper afraid of being judged,” A dull chuckle followed.

“I’d never judge you, Momo,” After a moment of hesitation, she reached out for her hand, “In any case, how could I? As you said, I was there the same way you were. Remember how we talked about seeking maximum pleasure? Isn’t that what this is? Having fun, regardless of moral judgement?”

“You don’t have to bring Utilitarianism into everything we do, you know?” She smirked at her.

“What do you expect me to do?” When she smiled, it reached her eyes.

“Maybe stop obsessing over your job.” The comment could be taken as an offense, but she couldn’t fight the truth. When Momo saw she wasn’t getting a response, she thought of a bold approach.

“Why don’t you come again?”

“What?” Ms. Park’s expression was unreadable.

“To the club.”

Now it was certainly readable. She watched her professor shift in her seat, suddenly doubting what to do with her hands. She could barely keep her gaze off the napkin she had been twirling between her fingers.

“You didn’t seem so against it just a minute ago,” Momo seemed to have comfortably settled around her professor, somehow audacious enough not to care. Curious about whether or not Ms. Park was on the same page as her, she simply said, “It gets boring sometimes. I go in every Friday night, in case you’re still in your Utilitarian mindset.”

“Are you that desperate, Hirai?” She tried her hardest to hide her agitation.

“I like it when you call me that.”

She’s being played with, right? She has to be. And if anything were to happen, it would be her fault, because she’s the teacher, she’s the responsible one. The only option is to hold back, to ignore the comments, the suggestions, pretend she doesn’t get the hints and pretend there’s nothing she wants more than to give in. She denies Momo’s offer. We’ll see about it some other time, she says.

—

Nayeon had insisted on a _work-free, otherwise punishable by death_ afternoon, which left Jihyo at a shortage for objections. They had seen each other plenty of times at work, but that was rather _looking at_ more than seeing each other. It went like this sometimes; Jihyo says nothing of her life-consuming stress, Nayeon senses it, Nayeon comes to save the day. Even though she prefers not to be bothered, something tells her everyone is right about work getting to her and, for once, it would be nice not to put down one of her offers. Not that it was an offer more than a threat, with Nayeon obliging her to wear comfortable _non-work_ clothes, but Jihyo was happy to have her come over for a while. She made a mental note not to mention her sleeping schedule when she arrived. Or lack thereof.

Having known Nayeon since their teen years, she knew better than to expect her to arrive on time, but just this once, she stayed true to her word and a bell rang just as Jihyo was typing an email to the humanities department. She diffidently shut down her laptop as quickly as she could before rushing to the door.

“You’re early.”

“I’m on time,” Nayeon simply said, stepping through the door with plastic bags in her grasp. Jihyo assumed them to be all kinds of diabetes-inducing snacks.

“How’s Jeong?” Jihyo asked, helping her with the goods.

“I step into your house for a split second and already you’re focusing on my wife instead of me?” There she was; never unlike her to bicker.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She chuckled.

“She’s been doing okay. A little overworked, but I take care of her.” Jihyo saw her smiling to herself from the corner of her eye as she opened the cabinet above the fridge, looking for popcorn.

“I’m glad she’s in good hands.” She returned the smile, “I’ll put this in the microwave, alright? You can start choosing whatever you want to watch.”

“I was choosing anyway.”

“That’s what I had assumed.”

“You’re speaking to a renowned cinephile here.” She laughed.

Nayeon didn’t have a problem settling herself comfortably around Jihyo’s apartment, which is something she was grateful for. She preferred knowing she felt cozy and safe in her home, as if it were her own. Both of them found their way to her sofa with the popcorn and some drinks, with Nayeon sprawling her body on the couch without a second thought, a sight Jihyo is very much used to. They talked about their day, about women, about the indie film Nayeon insisted on putting on because _it’s all shot in the same sequence and you don’t know how to appreciate real cinema, Hyo_. Jihyo is relieved to feel consoled in the comfort of her home, with her best friend next to her, listening to whatever minor inconvenience she has to complain about and what book she’s excited to read. That nostalgic sense of reassurance returns once again to bloom in her chest, and maybe everything will be alright. After a while, Jihyo no longer pays attention to the movie, instead drifting to her usual, recurring daydreams, and an urge hits her.

“Weren’t you bringing wine?” She says, turning her head to Nayeon, who is munching on some popcorn with an elbow plopped on the armrest of the sofa.

“Huh?” She must’ve been falling asleep, her eyes grew lidded, “Oh, I did. I left it in the kitchen.” She took that as a non-verbal sign telling her to go get it herself. She could hear the cars outside her window, which she only heard when people were coming home from work, so she assumed that meant it must be getting dark outside. As she stepped in the kitchen, she heard the echo of Nayeon’s voice coming from the living room.

“Hyo, let’s watch something else.”

“Okay. What do you wanna watch?” She shouted back.

“Where’s that watchlist you told me about?”

She crouched down, looking for the wine, “I screenshotted it. My phone’s on the table.” After finding it in one of the bottom cabinets, she grabbed a couple wine glasses and the hoodie she had thrown on a chair. She saw Nayeon going through her phone as she placed the glasses on the table, taking a second to put her hoodie on, cursing about the cold. But out of nowhere, Nayeon’s face, illuminated by the screen, completely changes. She’s used to seeing her overreact, it isn’t worth giving it much attention.

“Hyo, what the fuck is this?”

She drops back down on the opposite side of the sofa, resting her legs on the cushion. “What? I know some of the movies are bad, but as I said, they’re meant for lazy afternoons and—”

“No. Jihyo.”

She stops. She looks up at her. Her expression tells her she’s being serious, but this time she says nothing.

“Isn’t this your student?”

And her face freezes. _Her student._ Momo, it must be Momo— _Fuck_. The pictures. There she had it, what she had feared she couldn’t save herself from. A terrible warmth settles in her body, and it is anything but pleasant. Her head spins fast, trying to come up with some sort of excuse, but what would she tell her? They were sent by accident, but she never deleted them. _And what about the third one? That was_ not _accidental._ But it had been sent as a joke, right? However she’d pull off _that_ explanation.

“Jihyo. Isn’t this Hirai Momo?”

She is simply at a loss for words. Maybe their little game went on a bit too far. She’d done nothing wrong, nothing. She had nothing to hide, she wouldn’t lose her job. Her cheeks blush, she tries not to think of the fact that Nayeon is looking at a half-naked Momo on _her_ phone.

“What are you talking about?” Are all the words she could put together. They sound just as stupid as they are the moment they leave her lips. She had never felt this immature in years.

“Come on, I’m happy for you! She seems very intelligent, —and pretty—, I think she’s good for you.”

“What? No! We’re not in a relationship!” Her heart races at the thought of someone else seeing them as a couple. _God, Park, stop acting like a little kid._

“Oh.” Is all she says. “Well, are you gonna tell me about this or am I gonna have to assume the worst?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Spill.”

“Alright,” She takes a deep breath and guesses it will be much better to simply start from the beginning, “Well, remember when we went to that strip club?” A nod from Nayeon, “And remember how you said that stripper looked like my new student?” A half nod, followed by a confused look.

“No, but continue.”

“Well, that’s what you said. Turns out it was actually her.”

Wine threatens to spill from Nayeon’s mouth as she leans over, a shriek stopping before her closed lips. She swallows.

“What?!”

“Obviously neither of us knew about it, but eventually we found out. She’s by far the best in my class, so we’ve been talking. But nothing like that.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been receiving nudes from your student and it’s _nothing like that_?”

“They’re not _nudes,_ and she sent them by accident.”

“Sure she did.”

“She did, —except for another one, but that has nothing to do with this— and I felt so bad, she seemed so embarrassed when I talked to her about it.”

“Okay, Jihyo, I won’t blame you. To be fair, I’d want to hit that too, but what are you doing with her?”

“I’m doing nothing!” Her tone seems defensive, “I never did anything, and it’s not like we aren’t both adults.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” She leaned over the table to leave her glass of wine, “I meant like, feelings and stuff. If you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about that before. “I guess I don’t know, no.” That made her reflect. She knew how Momo made her feel, how her knees buckled when she stared back, how her lower belly felt warm when she leaned in a little too close, but what on earth was she doing?

That night, after Nayeon had left her alone with her thoughts, Jihyo dreamt of her.

_In her dreams, she kisses Momo so deeply. She tucks her hair behind her ear as she trails her lips down to her jaw, and her hand snakes its way up her waist to push her up against her. It’s been so long since she’s felt real warmth, it almost feels like it’s happening. Momo looks better in her arms. She holds her close. So close. Jihyo feels the skin under her lips burn as she kisses it. She loves the sound of Momo’s adorable whimpers as she lies beneath her. The tenderness was enough to kill her. And she knows it’s not real, but, at least for once, she wishes she could stay._


	5. You Look Much Prettier When You Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momo begins to fall behind in her studies, but sometimes you have to sacrifice a loss to secure a victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, it's been a while!  
> here's a longer chapter to make up for the wait. classes are ending soon so that means more time, and definitely more frequent updates ^^

With finals week just around the corner, Momo is sure she might just not make it. As a naturally gifted student, she never found herself in need of studying in order to stay at the top of her class, and while that’s all good and well, it had backfired dreadfully. She just can’t sit herself down for more than five consecutive minutes, her attention span giving out without a warning. So she does the last thing she’s supposed to do. Not study at all. Which wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for her scholarship, knowing it would cause a distressing discussion between herself and her parents if she ever were to lose it. Sana had talked to her about it during a lazy afternoon.

“If you don’t do it for yourself, shouldn’t you do it for them?” She had said, “They’ve put all this trust in you. It would be a shame if you—“

“Okay Sana, okay.” Momo rubbed her eyes with a frown, “I _know,_ it’s just… I can’t find the motivation.”

“I thought you liked philosophy.”

“I do! But I like doing it on my own. I’m tired of writing essays every week. It’s taking me nowhere.”

Sana didn’t want to further intervene. She neither had the knowledge or nerve to do so. So instead she just hummed, nodding, and decided to change the subject.

“I’m visiting my family after finals.”

Momo lifted her head from the pillow on the couch, “Already?”

“Yeah,” She sat down next to her, rubbing her back, “since I couldn’t see them last year, you know?”

“It’ll be good for you. You’ll get to see the snow!” She half smiled, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Momoring,” She lied down next to her, giving her a soft peck on the cheek, which resulted in Momo faking a disgusted groan, something she is used to ignore, “I’ll only be gone a few days, though.”

“Still.”

They lay there for a while, in silence, with Sana’s hand playing with her hair. Momo tried to push the guilt away, wanting the thoughts of _what would happen after her failure_ to go away. Deep down, she knew all Sana wanted to do was help. She really took Sana for granted. Somehow she wants to voice her gratitude towards her, for always being by her side unconditionally, but she can’t. She’s sure Sana knows, anyway. So she closes her eyes, hoping to drift herself away.

—

Maybe renouncing her studies was not the best idea after all. The realisation comes to her late, when she finds herself having to spend every afternoon stuck at the library with her head buried between the pages of her books, following the same line over and over again, hoping her eyes would stop losing focus. A couple thoughts of regretting her life decisions flash through her head when her face drops onto the table, giving up on forcing herself to go over the same paragraph she’d been stuck in for the last forty-five minutes. Part of her had hoped Ms. Park would go easy on her after the new found information of having taken the spot of her favourite student, but the honour was not enough. If anything, she felt like more was being demanded from her rather than any other student. And although that might’ve been hot for a while, now was not the time to be drooling over Ms. Park’s sense of authority over her. She let herself get distracted, walking around the library, and to her surprise, Kim Dahyun from philosophy is sitting right behind her.

“Hey,” Momo allows herself to bend over towards her, “what are you reading?”

Dahyun looks directly in front of her instead of turning her gaze to Momo, which makes her think she might’ve disturbed the girl. She thought they might’ve been getting along lately, especially with the girl’s interest in her best friend, but something told her she shouldn’t be so sure. The girl keeps her thumb between the pages she has open and closes the book, revealing the cover. _Approaches to the Study of Religion, by P. Connolly._ Oh, here we go again.

“Isn’t it kinda weird how you’re taking philosophy and theology at the same time? Don’t those cancel each other out?” At this point, Momo is just messing with her.

“Yes. I guess they do.” Her tone is still, like she has every word she is about to say planned out.

“Hm.” Not the answer she had expected, but her boredom pushed her to keep talking to her, “How’s it going with Sana?”

Dahyun’s eyes shot open as her pale cheeks adopted a now-pink blush. Momo appreciated the cuteness of it all.

“Nothing’s going on with Sana.” She turned back to the page she was on.

“She thinks you’re cute.” She says, for Dahyun to hear the teasing smile in her voice.

“She does?” Her head had turned to her with such eagerness that Momo couldn’t help but laugh.

“She does. Why don’t you ask her out?”

“Why would I do that?” By her tone, anyone could’ve assumed she was almost offended.

“Well… don’t you like her?”

No response. Momo was amazed at how quickly she got flustered, but there was no point in further pushing her if she knew she was making her uncomfortable.

“Well you might be lucky and she might ask you out first.”

As expected, all Dahyun could do was bury her burning red face back into her book, so Momo let her.

Before anyone could hiss at them to shut up, she walked back to where her stuff was all scattered around the table, the pile of books she still has to go over mortifying her. Maybe she’d have to skip work this week. The thought of having to ask Jinyoung for a couple of days off sent a chill down her spine. So she decides the best option is to rip the band-aid off all at once and shoots a quick text to her boss.

_“cant come in this week. got finals”_

She doesn’t even have to guess what the response will be when she feels her phone vibrate in her hand.

_“Suit yourself. Forget about your raise.”_

Fucking asshole. How many times had she covered for countless other girls for their minor inconveniences? This might really be the last straw, one last thing from him and she’ll be on the verge of quitting for good. She couldn’t wait to get home to tell Sana about it. It would be nice to complain to someone else for a change, if only she had someone else to talk to. Yes, she admitted she didn’t exactly make the biggest effort to make friends, but it didn’t come easy to her either. She had always been the one hiding behind Sana’s back as she did the talking, and whoever Sana got along with, Momo followed through. She had hoped university would clear the path she needed to meet new people, and though she had made plenty of acquaintances, no one really made an impression on her. Sure, she’d laugh with that Tzuyu girl during Mr. Hwang’s mind-numbing Classical History lectures, and she still kept in touch with Chaeng even after she dropped out, but she couldn’t talk to them like she did with Sana. She really didn’t know what she’d do without her when she leaves after finals. For now, the most excited she’d been to get up and rush all the way to campus while the sun wasn’t even out yet was to see Ms. Park.

—

“Oh, Mina, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” Jihyo said as the Japanese literature professor handed her the stack of essays she’d forgotten on one of the tables in the cafeteria, “I swear I don’t know how this happened.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She gave her a polite laugh, “Don’t let your students find out, though.”

“I’d probably end up dead in a ditch.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not anymore.”

“Serious. They hate me.” Her response wasn’t even pre-meditated, she let it go mechanically.

“Is that really the impression you have of your students? That they hate you?”

Jihyo stood silent as she looked at her. Park Jihyo, the hot and mighty ethics professor, insecure about not being liked by her students. Who would’ve thought.

“Jihyo, your students _admire_ you. They’re probably just scared.”

“What? Scared of what?”

“I mean…” She thought about her words for a second before speaking, “You are pretty intimidating.”

“ _What?_ ” She cackled.

Mina made sure to give her a curt look as a warning, “Okay, you better not use that against me now.”

“No, no, I’m just…” She smiled to herself, oddly proud of her statement, “Never thought _intimidating_ would be a word used to describe me.”

“Oh please, as if we all didn’t know about your sex record.” She huffed. Jihyo knew she was referring to her… _dominant_ _attitude_ in bed. Not that she had a reason to know any details of her sexual history, but being pretty close to each other had lead to all sorts of conversations.

“Right, so that’s what this is about.”

“No, never said it was. But I’ll tell you it might have something to do with it.”

“How did we go from me losing my students’ essays to you talking to me about my sex life?”

“It’s your own fault for making it so obvious.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Come on, now you just want to hear me say it again.” They both laughed.

Okay, maybe it was half true that Jihyo enjoyed knowing the image she projected was accurate to how she wished to be perceived, but that was a whole different conversation. Especially since it was a painful reminder of how long she’d gone without sex. Not that she depended on something as superficial as carnal pleasure, but all the stress raining down on her these days really made her miss it.

“Right. You’re lucky I can’t argue with you right now. I’m already late to my own class.” Jihyo said.

“Go on then, Park.”

She made sure to take the stack of essays with her this time. Half of the papers had been graded embarrassingly low, and to her unfortunate surprise, Momo’s had been one of them. It shouldn’t be hard for a professor to simply do her job, but as Jihyo sat through a whole day of corrections, seeing she’d have to hand back a failed essay to her favourite student struck an odd pain in her chest. She usually couldn’t wait until she got to her assignment, ready to enjoy what the girl had to say, but this time all she could do was cringe at the obvious lack of research and dedication the girl had put in. All she thought about on her way to class was how she was going to hand her paper back.

She let her students settle around the classroom before speaking.

“Hello everyone. I have your essays.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I hate to say this, but they did not go well. I thought we’d take the first half of the class to go over why you didn’t do well so this can be avoided in the future.”

The visual response she got from her class told her all she needed to know. By the looks of it, none of them had gotten any sleep, probably stressing out with exams. She began calling out names, each student walking up to take their essay when their name was announced. Until she read aloud _Hirai Momo_ , and the girl appeared in front of her, frowning as she saw her mark.

“I’ll talk to you after class.” She was sure Momo noticed the disappointment in her tone. The poor girl walked away looking at her paper witch a hunched back, a clear lack of energy visible in her step as she disappeared back to her seat. It pained her to not be able to stop her and put her at ease, telling her not to worry about it. As any regular philosophy course would go, Jihyo assigned essays every week, except this time she gave her students a two week period to complete it, deciding she would use it to count more towards the final mark. But, what the hell, she shouldn’t be overthinking how she distributed this semester’s marks, it’s not her job to look after Momo, after all.

“Momo, what happened?” She had said after the class emptied out except for herself and her student. It had been a while since she began calling her by her first name.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Park.” She couldn’t even look at her in the eye.

“I expected so much from you,” —not a word from her,— “have you lost focus?”

“Yes.” The only response she got after a beat of hesitation. She thought it might not be a good idea to push her any further when she noticed the dark circles under her eyes and how her hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days.

“Look, Momo,” She reclined her body against her desk, sensing they’d be there for a while, “I know how good of a student you are. This mark does not reflect your intelligence, do you hear me?” Momo lifted her head up to look at her, half lidded eyes and eyebrows arched in an apologetic expression, “You don’t have to torture yourself over one bad grade. Promise me you’ll move past it.” She nudged her arm with a smile on her face, to which Momo couldn’t help but weakly smile back.

“I promise.”

“Good.” She saw Momo’s features relax, “You look much prettier when you smile.”

Momo chuckled, and Jihyo loved seeing the blush on her face.

—

Unfortunately, the comfort of Ms. Park’s words didn’t last too long; the reality of having to face her exams hitting her in the face as she remembered how utterly unprepared she was for them. If she could, she’d avoid disappointing not only Ms. Park but also her parents at all costs —not that she ever cared, but she also never did—. Every time she saw Sana studying in their living room, a string of guilt always trailed closely behind when she only disappeared to her room to waste her time watching videos. Not only was Sana up to date with her exams, but she also found the time to hang out with Dahyun. Momo just didn’t get it, how it was so easy for her to simply get on with her work. It got worse and worse, with each day passing coming closer to her finals, and the closer she got, the more aware she became of how irresponsible she was being. Even though she had not decided to get on with it until the last minute, she believed she could squeeze in a chance to pass her exams if she put herself through a final sprint of non-stop studying for the last couple of days. She hadn’t read a single book she was told to, making her stay in the library —because, of course, she needed the pressure of other students around her to keep her off her phone— until they closed, early in the morning. Her eyes felt like they were about to peel out of their sockets if she didn’t close them soon, which was something she definitely couldn’t afford to do. Not at this point. _And it’s your own fault, Hirai._

She’d repeat the same process for the whole week, refusing to speak to anyone, not even Sana, in hopes to get back on track with everyone else. Momo was so stuck in her own mess she nearly forgot Sana was leaving to go to Japan. The one thing she regretted about switching majors was the fact that she would have finished with her finals a week early if she had stayed in Sana’s class.

“So you’re leaving me here all alone to rot.” Momo snorted, keeping Sana close in her embrace, who was only minutes away from leaving.

“Hey, I already went through finals, now it’s your time to feel my pain.” She said as she smiled into the hug. She was only taking a small suitcase with her. There was something about Sana not needing much that made her look so cute, so simple and happy. Momo loved that about her.

“I’ll miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too, Momoring.”

And just like that, she had left, for Momo to go back to her little personal hell of studying every single hour of the day.

The first couple of exams went by the quickest, and the easiest, she thought. After all, she didn’t need much studying for Classical History, not when she could cheat, anyway. It was what came next that mortified her. Her hours of lost sleep really did a number on her, and perhaps they wouldn’t be worth it if they took away all the energy she needed to get through the day without collapsing. In her head, it made sense to sacrifice certain exams in order to better prepare for the bigger ones, but deep down, her strongest motivation to do well in her philosophy final was making Ms. Park proud.

Thursday night. The night before her final exam. Momo sits in the library once again, her fists keeping her head from falling, her eyes dry from staring at the pages of the book she has in front of her for far too long. Her mind is so blurred out she can’t even for the life of her remember its title. Just a few more pages and she’ll be done. She’s put herself though such an acute schedule her body was about to go into shock. Maybe if she closed her eyes, just for a few minutes…

“Momo? What are you doing here?” A voice startles her from behind. She realises she must’ve fallen asleep, looking up as she attempts to cover the dribble that trailed from her mouth onto the book’s open pages. Her eyes won’t adjust at first, but after she lifts her head and makes the effort to squint, she can begin to make out the figure of the person in front of her.

“Ms. Park?” Her voice sounds unexpectedly hoarse. She clears her throat as she sits up, adjusting her bangs in a languid manner. There is no one else around them. The library is silent, except for the faint flutter of the unkempt fluorescent lights in desperate need of fixing.

“It’s almost midnight. Why are you out here so late?”

Momo notices the woman has a business bag around her shoulder and her free hand is subjecting what looks like a folder. She must’ve come to the library to pick some things up before going home.

“I… I was studying.”

“You need some sleep. You have your big exam tomorrow.” She stops, struggling to fit the folder inside her bag, “Aren’t you going home?”

“Didn’t… didn’t want to disappoint you,” She tried her hardest not to drowse in her words, “I can’t go back home tonight.” Not to her surprise, she had been stupid enough to forget her keys inside her apartment, just when Sana had left the country. How fortunate.

“What? No, no. You have to go home. The library is closing in a while anyway.”

“I— I kind of locked myself out of my own apartment.” If she had the energy, she would laugh at herself.

“Oh, God. What about your roommate? Sana?”

“Sana is visiting her family in Japan.”

Ms. Park visibly tensed at Momo’s plight.

“I know what you’re thinking. _Call your landlord_. No, I can’t because this has happened before. I’m on my final warning.”

“Well you can’t just stay here and spend the night on the street. Not when you’re taking my exam tomorrow.” Jihyo would think about telling her to call a friend, but the few personal conversations they had together lead her to believe she wasn’t the most sociable person out there.

“Can’t I just wait here until tomorrow?”

“Momo, look at me.” Jihyo fetched for her face, pulling her towards her. “You need to sleep.”

When she saw she wasn’t getting a response from her, and was potentially mere seconds away from passing out, she thought of an alternative solution.

“Look, I’m going home now. You can come with me, if you want. At least you’d be getting some sleep this way.”

It took a couple of seconds for her words to kick in, “Oh, no— Ms. Park, I couldn’t—”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” She said, just after a moment of hesitation.

“I can’t just leave you here, can I?”

Momo gathered her things, scrambling up her notes and carelessly tucking them in her bag with the rest of her books. They walked to Ms. Park’s car in silence. Momo was discretely awed by her professor’s Mercedes Benz, suddenly finding it extremely attractive to think she’ll see her driving such a car.

“You can leave your stuff in the back.” Ms. Park said as she unlocked the car. She stepped in the driver’s seat, waiting for Momo to place her belongings behind them, hearing her curse the huge weight the insane amount of books took up.

It smelled just like Ms. Park inside. The feeling was so oddly comforting, Momo tried not to give in to it. They drove in silence, except for the noises of the ticking engine and the soft sounds of the road outside. Momo could get used to this.

“Have you been torturing yourself too much with finals?” The comment came out of nowhere, but both of them seemed happy to keep their minds occupied.

“Pretty much. But I only have myself to blame. Put it off til the last minute.”

It took a second for Ms. Park to respond, “We’ve all been guilty of that.” Her tone was calm as she concentrated on the road in front of her. Momo watched as she kept her hands in a tight grip around the wheel. There was something so attractive about her taking control.

“I can imagine you’re stressed out too.”

“Absolutely.” She chuckled in a low voice, “Wish I could take my mind off work from time to time.” Such a comment gave Momo one of her dirty ideas, but it was best she kept it for a more appropriate time. Or simply to herself.

The car slowed down as Ms. Park took a turn, approaching a fairly fine-looking street, “Alright, we’re here.”

They wasted no time in walking inside, the icy night air threatening to freeze them to death if they didn’t rush enough. Momo regretted not bringing a jacket with her.

When they entered the house, Momo took a good look at the neat styling she had put together. It seemed only fair for her professor to live in such a tidy and clean household. It suited her.

“Do you need to take a shower?” Ms. Park said as she dropped her keys on the kitchen table, watching Momo take her shoes off by the entrance.

“Are you saying that because I smell?” She teased.

Jihyo snorted, “I was just worrying about you there. You smell very nice.”

“I know I do, I just wanted to hear you say it.” She giggled, “And yes, I do need one.” Momo could go another day without a shower, but being in someone else’s house pushed her to follow basic hygiene habits, for the sake of everyone’s comfort. Not that she was going to admit she was also terribly curious of what her apartment looked like.

“The bathroom is two doors to the right. You can use whatever you want. I’ll get you some clean clothes for when you come out.”

But before Momo could protest, Ms. Park disappeared into another room, talking to someone on the phone and closing the door behind her.

She was left alone to wander around her professor’s apartment. The thought of wearing her cleanclothes made her realise she had never seen her in such a domestic setting before. It gave her butterflies.

Momo watched herself as she undressed in front of the mirror, suddenly thinking of how Ms. Park does this in here all the time. _You’re having a shower in your professor’s apartment… What the hell._ Somehow, a part of her didn’t want to leave in the morning. She felt comfortable with Ms. Park, like she was oddly wishing to spend time with her, talking about anything and everything. The things she’d give to simply indulge in superficial conversations with her instead of keeping their discussions strictly professional and class-related, to be able to listen to the sound of her voice, late at night.

As she washed her hair, she got a good look at the shampoo she used. Citrus fruits, as she had guessed so herself. If anyone ever asked, she would deny she lingered taking in the scent.

Although she appreciated Ms. Park’s hospitality, it was probably best not to sky-rocket her water bill, so she kept it quick and stepped out of the shower, swiftly wrapping herself in a towel. The thought of coming into contact with something that had touched Ms. Park’s naked skin sent a dose of warmth to her lower belly.

When she exited the bathroom, she encountered a set of clothes neatly displayed on the professor’s bed that looked like they had been placed for her. She took advantage of her temporary solitude to change into them, feeling cozy at the softness and slight scent they still had on them. Seeing her own dirty clothes bunched up in her grasp made her realise her bag was still in Ms. Park’s car. She wasn't quite sure what to do with them, suddenly panicking about what to tell her professor. When she heard one of the other room’s doors open, she looked outside, hoping to find her.

“Ms. Park?”

By the looks of it, she had only just ended her conversation on the phone, now directing her full attention to her.

“You know you can call me Jihyo, right?” She gave her a light chuckle.

The domestic look on her displayed a completely different image to how she’s used to seeing her around campus. She had changed into clean clothes herself and got rid of her makeup, Momo noticed. Her eyes involuntarily diverted down, only to discover she was not wearing a bra underneath her shirt. The image nearly makes her dizzy.

“I— uh… Okay. Jihyo. I’m sorry, where can I leave this?” She extended her arms —with a blush threatening to cross her face—, revealing her used clothes.

“Oh, just put them in the basket, I can wash them for you.”

Momo was left dumbfounded at the amount of care she was suddenly receiving. After moving out of her parent’s house in Japan, she had followed the average university student’s lifestyle, not taking much care of herself and failing in putting an effort into cleanliness. It was refreshing to see someone look out for her like that.

Jihyo looked like she was about to leave, but turned around to look at Momo once again just before disappearing, “Are you sure you don’t want to dry your hair? You might catch a cold.”

“Uh… I’m okay.” She looked like she was too scared to take further advantage of anything she was offered.

“There’s a blow-drier in the bathroom —inside the cabinet under the sink—, I promise you you’ll be ill tomorrow morning if you don’t dry it. And I won’t let you retake your final, Hirai.” She teased, a playful smirk displayed on her face. Before leaving, she added, “I’ll make you something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

“I’m fine with anything.” She had suddenly become extremely cautious with her words, hesitant about overstepping any boundaries.

Jihyo had already disappeared after she got her answer, leaving her to finish with her routine. So Momo looks for the bathroom once again and crouches down to match her eye level with the cabinet Jihyo had mentioned previously, opening it to look inside. She finds what she assumes to be a blow-drier, exposed in a set of intertwined cables spilling outside the shelves, and when she pulls them out, a plastic box comes out with them. She grimaces, a silent “fuck” on her lips cursing her own clumsiness. She rushes in an attempt to collect everything she had knocked out, until Momo takes a closer look, and freezes when she realises what’s inside the box. _You have got to be kidding me_. She feels like she’s just discovered a secret, like she’s seen something she definitely wasn’t supposed to. She holds the box, looking inside. A black strap-on attached to its harness, a bottle of cherry flavoured lube and what looked like a pink vibrator. _Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God—_ Momo’s mind races at the sight, like a little kid having found out a little too much about something they’ve been warned of. Her knees suddenly feel weak at the mental image of her professor using such a toy on someone, wondering how it would feel to be the one taking it. Feeling intrusive, she forces herself to snap out of her inflicted daydream, trying to be quick about putting everything back in its place before getting walked in on the scene she caused of inspecting Jihyo’s sex toys.

—

Momo had finished with her hair before dinner was ready, so she let herself sit down as she watched the professor cook for her from the kitchen island. The circumstances made Momo completely forget about her final tomorrow, until she noticed a stack of papers on the edge of the table. Her mind was still coated with the blurriness of her fatigue, but after adjusting her focus she noticed they were actually the philosophy final exams for tomorrow. Jihyo conveniently turned around from what she was doing, just in time to stop her.

“Don’t you _dare_ peek at those exams, Hirai.” She was serious, but they both knew the comment was completely lighthearted. Even though she probably trusted Momo enough to keep the exams herself, she still decided it would be best to get them out of the way. Just to be professional.

—

“So when did you move here?” The professor said, before bringing a spoonful of soup to her mouth.

They had settled around the island, eating the rice and soup Jihyo had made, with Momo talking to her about Japan. A hint of coziness filled the ambience that had built up around them, like they had already been used to such a scenario for a while. Although Momo was following the conversation, she kept remembering what she saw earlier in her bathroom, and constantly trying to distract herself from the sight of her nipples poking out of her shirt didn’t help her case either. It took her a second to process her words after an attempt at pushing the involuntary thoughts out of her head.

“Just before starting uni. I haven’t been here for that long, now that I think about it.”

“Right, right.” She hummed with her mouth full. “Did you say you were here with a scholarship?”

“Yeah. I’m condemned to do well unless I want it taken away, though.” She snorted. It was gettinglater than anticipated, the weariness of the whole day’s work definitely kicking in now.

“But I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing well, Momo. You seem way too harsh with yourself.” She had said it without a second of hesitation. Momo just shrugged.

They ended their impromptu dinner with Momo collecting the dishes and Jihyo doing the washing, along with a discussion about who should be granted what bed.

“Obviously you’re taking my bed, you’re the guest!”

“How could I? I’ve already disturbed you enough as it is.”

“I was the one who offered, you idiot.” She said, taking pride in the smile she drew from Momo.

“Fine, and I choose to take the couch.”

“You can’t, it gets way too cold in the living room at night.”

“Then how are you going to sleep there?”

“I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Well I’m not having that.” Momo thought if they had gotten to where they were now, there was no point in shying away from her proposal, “We can both sleep in your bed, then.”

It took a beat for Jihyo to process the information, “Well… are you okay with that?”

“Please, as if I haven’t literally given you a lap dance. This won’t hurt anyone.” Momo pretended to act tough, but was secretly suppressing a strangled screech. Sana won’t let her hear the end of it when she finds out.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Hirai. You aren’t getting any special treatment from me.” She muttered, the wide grin on her face mismatching her words.

It was nearing two in the morning when they both tucked themselves into bed. Jihyo was definitely right about the cold, it had urged Momo to bring the cover up to her chin and turn to her side, nearly hugging her knees. Her eyelids grew lidded, but she managed to watch Jihyo’s back, turned away from her, in the dim moonlight that shone through the window. Something like bliss filled her chest as she watched her side rise and fall to the rhythm of her breathing.

“Thanks. For everything.” She whispered, already drowsing off.

“You’re welcome.” Her husky voice dripped like honey, “Good night, Momo.”

Momo returns a languid “good night” as she dozes off to the warm, gooey feeling of resting next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, i know it's not the best, but there's that.  
> feel free to leave any comments or suggestions!


	6. Sounds Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week of surpassed finals calls for a celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting to the spice i promise  
> bear with me :p

The only thing that managed to wake Jihyo from her sleep was the feeling of soft lips pressed to her shoulder and an arm over her waist. It took a couple of minutes for her mind to convince her she wasn’t in a dream anymore when she realised it was Momo who was pressing her wet mouth against her skin, still fast asleep. Her breath felt warm, and there’s an instant where she considers lingering in the touch.

It’s never been unusual for her to wake up earlier than others, with her work requiring her to do so, so she made sure not to disturb Momo from her sleep when she gently pushed her head away and slid out of bed, turning back to watch her looking so beautiful with all her features relaxed and her slightly parted lips. She looked so cute. So _at ease_. She missed the feeling of her breath against her shoulder almost instantly, like it was something she should remember in case she never got to feel it ever again. Another moment of consideration, where she questions what would happen if she were to plant an innocent kiss on her forehead. Seeing it might not be worth the explanation, she decides against it.

When Jihyo got up, there was already a streak of light shining through the slightly ajar blinds, dousing Momo’s face in what looked like a soft warmth that only added to her delicate features. It still felt too early to wake the girl up, and remembering she was taking her final exam today, she let her rest for a while longer as made sure she herself had time to get ready.

Remembering she didn’t get a chance last night, she considers taking a shower, only for her eyes to land on her alarm clock, displaying _06:59_ in a bright green light. Definitely no time now. Trusting she still had some time on her hands until Momo woke up, she didn’t bother looking for a different room to change in. The mattress sank at the edge where she sat herself, now shirtless as she shuffled through her drawer, looking for a bra to put on. She quietly finished putting on her work clothes before turning back to look at Momo. Her hair had ruffled up in her sleep. Jihyo crawled back onto the bed to where Momo was resting, gently reaching out to tuck a strand of hair that covered her face behind her ear. For a second, Momo seemed to have woken up from the contact, but only inaudibly mumbled something in her still-unconscious state. Jihyo leaned in a bit closer, shaking her shoulder to see if she was at all receptive.

“Momo,” She whispered softly, “are you awake?”

Another inaudible mumble from the girl, this time bringing the back of her hands to her face, covering her eyes as if asking to be left alone.

She tried again, giving her a slightly harder push this time, “Momo, come on. It’s time to wake up, sweetie.” Her tone matched the gentleness of her movements. There seemed to be no response, and maybe it would be okay to risk it until the last minute, see if she was quick enough to get ready in a few minutes before having to rush to campus to take her final. The one she’d be in fact supervising.

No sooner had she began lifting herself off the mattress than she heard a quiet yawn from Momo. When she turned her head back to face the girl, she saw her half-squinting in an attempt to open her eyes. She couldn’t keep them completely open, but her focus tried staying still on the person in front of her, and the sight looked so domestic Jihyo couldn’t help feeling a swelling in her heart.

“Jihyo?” She drawled. Her head seemed heavier than expected when she tried lifting it up.

“Good morning.” She smiled, watching the girl take great effort in propping herself up with her arms, “Your hair’s all messy, did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” Her face was directed at her but she kept her eyes closed, squeezing in all the last-minute sleep she could before she got told off.

“You have forty-five minutes to get ready, you think you can handle that?”

“Mhm.” She repeated, her eyes still closed.

“Don’t take too long, okay? I’ll make you some breakfast.” By the time she was going to get a response, she was already out of the room.

She wasn’t going to tell Momo she never has breakfast. She wasn’t going to tell her because she didn’t want her knowing she longed for the feeling of taking care of her. Tending to Momo just felt right. It would be a lie to say she knew her well, but she still got an idea of what she was like. Jihyo considered herself to be pretty alright at psychoanalysing people around her, so understanding Momo came easy to her. She had realised she was an extremely sensitive person that did a suspiciously good job at hiding it. She noticed how well she responded to validation, especially when it came from herself. It nearly made her sad. But the feeling of wanting to be close to her —maybe even protect her— wouldn’t go away, no matter what she told herself.

So there she was, taking some oatmeal out of the fridge that she had made thinking of her, when she herself hadn’t stopped for breakfast in years.

She was squeezing an orange into a glass when she heard Momo walk in through the kitchen door.

“Hey.” Her voice sounded less hoarse than earlier.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” She replied, licking on some orange juice that had spilled out.

“You’re making this for me?”

“Just for you. Come sit down.”

Momo took a seat opposite her professor, “Your bed smells a lot like you.” She didn’t even hesitate when the words came out of her mouth.

“Oh?” She said, sitting down before sipping on her orange juice.

“Don’t worry. It’s a good thing.”

 _Okay, how am I supposed to respond to that? That sounds like flirting to me._ She watched her face, saying nothing. After a beat, she snorted, simply smiling at her. “Are you trying to get me to let you off on your final or something?”

The girl laughed at the assumption, “Oh God, I had already forgotten about that.”

“Yeah? But you’ve got this, right?” She said with her mouth full, continuing to munch on her oatmeal.

“I don’t know. Just don’t be surprised if I fail.”

“I will be,” She swallowed, “you tortured yourself studying. I’ll be sad if you wasted all your energy for nothing.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You just have to try your best and that will be good enough. I believe in you.”

Jihyo didn’t know it, but those words were what helped Momo get through her final. Her attitude had already changed after breakfast, when she borrowed a jacket from her professor —a little too formal to suit her usual dress code, but still good enough— just as they were leaving her apartment. They had talked in the car. It didn’t even feel like they were teacher and student, but like they were friends. Momo once again secretly marvelled at how her professor looked taking the wheel, now even more inviting than last night with the early sunlight dousing her golden skin. It might have been too early to be thinking of her like that, but Momo imagined herself caressing her face to feel the softness of it. She was nearly drifting away again when she recognised the alignment of trees at the entrance of her campus’ carpark.

“It’s gonna look a bit weird if someone sees us coming out of the same car this early in the morning.” Jihyo said as she stopped the car in her usual spot.

“Why? Are you scared someone might think something of it?” She didn’t even bother hiding her smirk when she teased her.

Jihyo only looked at her with a playful smile on her own face, not wasting her time to respond to her comment, “Come on, Hirai.”

They both walked together to the lecture hall, and Momo realised what Jihyo had meant earlier. It did feel slightly out of place to be put in the same plane as someone who should be above her in a position of power, especially in such a scenario. But there was another underlying sensation she couldn’t quite grasp; it gave her a certain rush to think she —of all people— had just spent the night at her professor’s apartment. Jihyo placed placed her hand on Momo’s as they were about to enter the classroom.

“You go in first. Settle in with the others.”

Momo’s nerves had eaten at her within the last minutes to the point where the tension in her throat wouldn’t let any words out. Jihyo noticed her clear display of nerves before pulling her to the side, in a corner next to the lecture hall’s entrance.

“Hey, relax.” She said, the stack of exams in one hand and the other gently lifting her chin to make her look at her, “You’ll do amazing. You’re the best I’ve got, okay?” The way she looked at her was nearly tender.

“Okay.” Her voice came out small, like it had taken some effort to let out.

“And if you’re good, we can celebrate, yeah?” She knew well how to capture Momo’s attention.

“That sounds nice.” She returned the smile, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

“You go ahead. I’ll see you in a minute, Hirai.”

Not wanting to waste any more time —or arise any strange suspicions from fellow students who walked past them—, Momo paced into the classroom to settle in one of the free seats around the second row, thinking it would keep her more focused. Except of course it didn’t. At all. It struck her when she failed to realise her future distraction would be the sheer proximity of her professor. As Ms. Park entered the hall, Momo watched her put on a pair of glasses, stopping in front of her desk to go through the exam papers before stacking them up together. When she slid her pantsuit jacket off her shoulders, she revealed a v-neck blouse that did no good job in hiding her generous cleavage. _Why did this have to happen now._

Momo was too caught up in her little daydream to realise her professor had begun speaking.

“I know it’s too early for this, I know, but one last push and you’ll all be out. If you pass, that is.” She stopped to giggle proudly at herself as she finished counting the papers, “I’m joking, you’ll all nail this. Good luck, everyone.”

Those who were taking their final seemed to share the same close-to-collapsing state as they fought to keep their eyes from closing and heads from banging against the table. In a way, it made Momo feel slightly better to think everyone had suffered as much as she had. Some natural light was kind enough to shine through the class’ windows, preventing the headache Momo is sure she would’ve gotten from the rusty fluorescent lights that constantly flickered from deterioration.

A clicking of heels approached her while she kept her eyes closed just a few more seconds. She recognised them to be none other than her professor’s, to which she got a confirmation when she raised her head from her palms and saw Ms. Park handing her the treacherous paper that was about to keep her hostage for the next hour and a half. Maybe it was in her head, but she was sure she noticed Ms. Park linger in her spot, and the gentle smile she received, whether it had been real or not, told her it would be okay.

—

To her surprise, she handled Sana being away far better than anyone might have expected. Sure, the first couple of days hadn’t been ideal, especially with the pressure of exams on her shoulders, but it was also a way to keep her mind occupied. To be fair, the two hadn’t been separated for longer than a weekend since they moved in together, which is the excuse Momo uses to cover her self-proclaimed embarrassing attachment to Sana. Later in the afternoon, when she waited in her usual spot on the couch for her friend to arrive, she knew she made it back safely from the exaggeratedly loud _Momoriiiiing_ she heard after a rattling of keys and a lock opening.

When she turned around, the smile on her face made all past worries go away. “Sana!”

She was dressed in simple sweatpants and a hoodie she had leant her before she left. Momo rushed to embrace her after what felt like so long.

They hugged each other without saying a word —aside from Sana’s intermittent _I missed you_ s—, happy for both of them to be home again. They seemed to have gotten too excited, and only calmed down after one of them kicked Sana’s luggage by accident.

“There was snow!” Sana said as she tried her best at dragging her hefty suitcase through the door. She must’ve brought some things back from Japan, judging by how much heavier it looked compared to when she had left.

“I _told_ you so. I’m so jealous.”

“You better be. How were finals?”

“Not too bad actually— _Oh_ , I have so much to tell you.” Suddenly, the memories from back at her professor’s apartment came back to her in desperate need to be monologued to Sana.

“Oh dear. Is this a professor situation?” She said, sighing as the weight of her case finally stopped irking her after she let it drop on her room’s floor.

She paused, “Wait, how are you supposed to know that?”

“What else would it be, Momo.” She rolled her eyes in an attempt to playfully provoke her.

“That’s rich coming from you. Shall I remind you of Ms. Myoui?”

“Please do.”

“ _No way!_ ”

“Then don’t try me. So what happened with Ms. Park?”

Momo was so close to blushing at the mention of her name, “Well…” She smiled, hopping onto Sana’s bed, “Guess where I spent the night yesterday.”

“No.”

“Yeah. But chill, it wasn’t like that.” She said, her grin failing to hide how proud of herself she was feeling at her own words.

“Wait, what? So did you two fuck or not?”

“Sana!”

“What? Why am _I_ suddenly the nasty one?”

“Because you’re imagining inappropriate scenarios in your head.”

“So what exactly were you doing at Ms. Park’s?”

“If you promise not to laugh at me I’ll tell you.”

Sana simply nodded, a tight-lipped smile on her face.

“She let me sleep at her apartment because I forgot my keys—” She rose her voice when Sana began shrieking in her usual astronomically high-pitched tone, “No, no! I— You were out— You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Sana had to press her hand to her stomach to recover, “I bet you did that on purpose.” She said between giggles.

“I _swear_ I did not. It was so nice of her, she literally gave me clean clothes and let me take a shower. She even made dinner for me and everything.”

“Sounds an awful lot like wanting some pussy to me.”

“Will you relax for a second. She was just taking care of me.”

“So like a sugar mommy situation.”

“Oh my God.” Momo rolled her eyes to the back of her head. She kept insisting on how their encounter had been fully platonic, though it certainly wouldn’t hurt to pretend otherwise. She was about to tell Sana about the strap-on she saw in her bathroom, but decided against it, considering it might be too much of an invasion of privacy, aside from the fact that she would _never_ hear the end of it.

“I get it, I was teasing you.” Sana giggled as she propped herself on her elbows with Momo next to her, “Just please tell me you slept in the same bed.”

Momo didn’t have to give her a verbal answer, because the look on her face was enough for Sana to understand the whole situation. The brash _I knew it_ she let under her breath was the least she could have expected from her.

“Okay, but wait a minute, what’s really going on between you two? Because as far as I’m concerned, it’s not that usual for a professor to show that much interest in a student. I get that you’re at the top of your class or whatever, but you get what I’m saying.”

“Nothing’s really going on.”

“But do you want there to be?”

That was a good question. On another occasion, Momo might’ve lied, maybe even to herself. But she didn’t have to say anything, because Sana already knew.

“She looks like she genuinely cares about you. I’d say go for it.”

“How would I even _go for it_?”

“Well…” She gave the question some thought, when her face lit up, like an imaginary lightbulbbrightly appeared above her head, “Why don’t you invite her back to the club, maybe do a private session for her and see how that goes?”

The thought alone gave Momo butterflies. “I’m not sure she’d like that.”

“You could at least suggest it. Worst case scenario, it gets slightly awkward between you two for a few minutes.”

“Or she kicks me out of her class.”

“Look, with everything that’s been going on, I bet that’s the last thing she wants.” She laughed it off, “Now, will you shut up and watch some Netflix with me?”

—

She didn’t go to work that night. What was the point, she thought, if her boss had already taken her promised raise from her and it was the first night she could afford to relax after that hell of a week she went through. He’ll _have_ to understand. The moon lit her room through her open window as she lay flat on her stomach with her pillow under her chin, scrolling blindly through her phone. Subconsciously, she went to her messages app and opened her professor’s chat. Her contact name had been changed to _jihyo <3\. _To her surprise, this late at night, she was also online. Her heart raced as she typed in a message.

_“its late. wyd”_

As she expected —or rather _wanted_ _to_ expect— she saw the _typing_ icon pop up next to her professor’s name almost milliseconds after she had sent it. She felt like she was waiting an eternity to get a message back, assuming she was typing and untyping possible things to say.

_“Was correcting your exams until you interrupted me”_

_“aw”_

_“im sure ur glad i interrupted u then :p”_

_“I guess you’re right lol”_

_“have u gone thru mine yet”_

_“Im not supposed to tell you that am I"_

_“oh so u have”_

_“did i do well? :)”_

_“What are you like lol”_

_“Yes, you did well”_

_“AHA I KNEW IT!!!!! :))”_

_“that means we can celebrate”_

_“Was that your only goal to do well in your final?”_

_“pretty much”_

_“You’re actually funny”_

_“so how do u wanna celebrate? ;)”_

_“You’re the one who did well. You can choose”_

_“why don’t you come by next friday to have some fun?”_

She knew this would happen. She just knew it. She regretted ever listening to Sana, because not getting a response to such a bold suggestion left more than an awkward unresolved tension in the air. At this point she couldn’t make out if the best option would be to apologise or to simply leave it be. But after a while of panicking, she saw the _typing_ icon pop back up next to Jihyo’s name, and she held her breath as she awaited her response.

_“Sounds good”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading c: any thoughts? concerns? i'd love to read them!!  
> also, next instalment will probably contain smut so... yeah LOL stay tuned


	7. Worth of a Mistake

“You can’t be serious.” Nayeon gasped, nearly spilling her coffee as she slammed the cup down on the cafeteria table.

“Don’t be so _loud._ ” Jihyo hissed, looking around to see if they caught anyone’s unwanted attention, “Yes, I’m serious. She asked me to visit her at the strip club again. _To have some fun_ , she said.”

“Well shit,” She took a pause to sip on her drink, “I think we all know where this will lead up to.”

Jihyo sat back in her chair, a proud smirk threatening to cover her face, but she held it back. They had stopped for their mid-morning break in the university campus’ diner area, aiming to hopefully be left alone without having to worry about any passing students trying to resolve their last-minute doubts with them — which Jihyo would be kind enough to answer, but Nayeon would just blatantly ignore.

“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t make a move on her when she stayed at yours for the night.” The older mentioned. The clinking sound she made as she stirred her coffee in an inhumanely slow manner was beginning to make Jihyo nervous.

“It wasn’t at all like that. I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” Jihyo said, still reclined back against the chair, her mind elsewhere.

“Uh…” Nayeon looked down while widening her eyes and lifting her eyebrows exaggeratedly, “You’re the one who never shuts up about her, mind you.”

“What? I never even talk about her.” She frowned. After a beat, she added, “And even if I did, don’t make it sound like I’m after her or something. Sounds weird.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t stray away from the sub—” Nayeon pausing mid sentence caught Jihyo’s attention, who in that moment turned her head to her with a frown, trying to figure out what distracted her.

“What?” She said, still not understanding what drew her away.

“Shush,” She lowered her voice, “isn’t that her?”

Before Jihyo could make out what the older was talking about, she noticed someone approach them from the corner of her eye. When she turned her head, she instantly recognised her.

“Ms. Park!”

Sure, if it had been anyone else, she would have just waved them away, but Hirai Momo wearing one of the biggest smiles on her face was something she just couldn’t turn down. Jihyo’s eyes diverted down to the crop top she was wearing underneath her jacket, loose over her shoulders.

She must’ve been staring, because she hears her name being called again, “Good morning,” Momo kept her smile, “I didn’t mean to bother you during your break but I forgot to hand in my paper? Since I don’t have any more classes with you today, I thought I’d look for you to hand it in in person.”

Jihyo realised Nayeon had noticed her little trance from the snort she recklessly let out, to which she gave a blunt side eye before turning to Momo again, clearing her throat this time, “Yeah, that’s fine,” She reached out as her student handed her the paper.

“I wish my students were as hard-working as you are, Hirai.” Nayeon chimed in.

To Momo, her grin might’ve seemed inviting, but Jihyo recognised it to be a display of her nosiness. Jihyo watched Momo’s blush spread around her cheeks. She looked so cute when she got shy.

“I think that’s a bit of an overstatement, Ms. Im. I’m quite the procrastinator.” She laughed politely.

Something about her acting so formal and well-mannered stirred something inside Jihyo. She could only think of how _different_ she acted that night at the club, certainly a thousand times more daring than now, as if they were two completely different people. The passing thought only made her remember their upcoming _date_ —or however anyone would call it—, where she’s certain she will experience that other side of her again. She wasn’t sure if the idea excited her or terrified her.

“Jihyo here mentions you a lot,” The comment gets a warning glare from the younger professor, but Nayeon still continues, “you must be the best in her class.”

“Oh, really?” She smiled up to her eyes, as if that had been the best compliment she had received all week.

“I think Ms. Im is late to her class.” Jihyo stated, her threatening gaze still fixed on the other professor as a way of making sure she doesn’t further overstep the line.

“I don’t have classes until four—”

“Late,” She said, standing up, “you’re late.”

Thankfully enough, Nayeon was smarter than the child she sometimes seems to act like to pick up on the cue, letting out a gasp of realisation before getting up from her seat to leave.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, Park.” She pointed at her eyes with her index and middle finger and flicked them towards her, as if to let her know she was watching.

For the whole week, all Jihyo could think about was her upcoming _event_ on Friday. Teaching had suddenly become harder than ever when answering her student’s questions became a challenge as she had to find herself pushing away lewd images of her working at the club that flashed into her head every so often. She wasn’t going to pretend like she didn’t catch Momo staring at her from time to time, taking advantage of the attention to occasionally loosen up a few buttons on her shirt, just to tease. Even Jeongyeon had found out about all that had been going on —not that it was some kind of secret, but Nayeon had never hidden anything from her to begin with— which had only unlocked a whole new wave of endless teasing crashing her way. Something about _having a soft spot for teenagers_ and _wait until she starts asking for alternative ways to round up her grades_ , although Jihyo had insisted on Momo being nowhere near her teen years and assuring she’s not the type of person to ever act inappropriately.

Still, she had no one to voice her latest concerns to. It had become usual for her to catch herself wondering what would happen if she were to cross the line.

—

Just like it had become part of her routine, Momo sat on the cold stool in the club’s locker room, busily going through possible outfits for the night. She had made sure her professor hadn’t forgotten about their agreement by sending her a few texts here and there that worked as subliminal reminders, hating the idea of having prepared extra hard for nothing. When she saw the infamous set of red lingerie hanging inside her locker, she was sure it was a no-brainer.

For the first time in weeks she was feeling like working tonight, but it was the first time she couldn’t care about the money she was going to make. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, watching herself as she trailed her hands down her neck, ignoring the loud chatter from the other dancers’ around the room who indulged in gossips about everything and anything just as soon as they walked in through the door. Momo hated that about her job. She hated how she felt like she was above the rest, like they didn’t know any better than she did, because they were too simple. She couldn’t even maintain a solely civilised conversation with a single one of them. Her annoyance at the dancers’ turmoil only grew greater as she tried her hardest to keep still, attempting to successfully draw on her eyeliner without smudging it all over her face. She had to physically bite her tongue to avoid snapping at one of the dancers —the oldest— who nearly spilt her disgustingly artificial energy drink all over her in the middle of a little game she was playing with the others. The thought of having to clean up all that stickiness only made her grateful it didn’t happen.

A sharp order from the house mom instructed them to tone it down, to _act like ladies if you want money in your pockets_. To be honest, Momo secretly thanked her, even if she sometimes made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. After all, the continuous blast did little to keep her sane in the head.

The memory of her conversation with Sana about tonight resurfaced as she busied herself with the lock on her locker’s door, and she could already hear the high-speakers’ resonance from inside as she finished putting her things away. All week, from start to finish, she had kept herself busy with her own dance practice schedules, going in for way longer than she’s used to just to keep her moves free of flaws. It had gotten to the point where her body cramped all over, with Sana being the one taking the caring role and bringing her painkillers every night. Surely she was more than ready.

The first round of girls had already exited the changing rooms, escorted by the manager to the main stage, while a few others were appointed to the lesser urgent platforms near the bar area. Momo hoped no one took Ms. Park away from her first.

It was almost midnight when she heard her name being called through the door. A bald man who looked like he was in his forties —someone she hadn’t seen around at all— popped his head through the waiting room’s portière, examining a clipboard he held in his clutch and letting her know she was up in five minutes to give her enough time to choose her music. What he didn’t know was she wasn’t at all planning on staying on the main stage for too long this night. Still, she got up from her stool, made sure her hair was in place and her outfit wasn’t about to slip off her skin, tightening it by the straps so the thickness of her thighs deliciously stuck out, bound by the garter belt that adorned her lower body. As Sana would say, _good enough to eat_.

In an sudden shift of awareness, she realised none of this would actually work if she was about to be dancing alone tonight, surely with everyone’s eyes on her. The threat pushed her to pace up to the metal door before the main room, carefully peeking inside to see if anyone else was occupying the main stage. The sound that was once muffled by the solid metal surface now became more than audible as she peeked through. _Thank fucking God._ Two other dancers were more than available at the centre of everyone’s attention. She granted herself a couple more minutes to mentally prepare herself to be exposed in front of dozens of drunks.

“The fuck you doing in here, honey?” A flat voice startles her from behind.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Momo had to clutch at her collarbone from the fright. She turned around to find the house mom with her glasses perched down to her nose, looking like she had been meaning to find her.

“Put some shorts on, darling. Those will slip off,” She pointed at her red lace panties with a stern look on her face, “unless that’s what you want.”

“I’m fine. I’m— I need to be out in a minute.” She confessed.

“It’s always the young ones like you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, honey.” She muttered, trailing her gaze up and down her body unashamedly to inspect her. She reached out to place her bony fingers on each side of her ribs, pushing down to feel the fat between her bones and her skin.

“Good, go ahead.”

Momo was always creeped out by their randomly out-of-place body inspections. She gave her a strained smile before disappearing as quickly as she could to the dark corridor that connected the waiting room to the main hall. It seemed like it had been yet another week without management listening to the workers, judging from the cold that she shouldn’t be feeling if only they had fixed the heating system. So much for a luxury club but the bare minimum for the ones who kept it running.

Hearing the song she had picked being played from the speakers served as a sign for her to approach the main entrance, readying herself to work. She wasted no time in switching her attitude to a daring, dark projection of herself, a sway in her hips as she walked through the door and a sharp gaze on her face. The familiar blue neon lights dosed her skin all around, serving in the perfect ambiance to put her in the mood every time. Already she could sense people staring at her, bills being thrown at her even without having reached the main silver pole at the middle of the luxurious stage, lit up by glittery lights. She kept her movements firm, like she wasn’t about to take shit from anyone, when she accommodated herself right next to the pole. The cheers of people around her nearly outshone the music blasting through the speakers in a manner that could nearly be considered deafening. Another two dancers adorned the poles opposite her, distracting the many other customers that had been seated further away from the central stage. There was an extremely emboldening beat to the music, driving her to dance like she was in a movie.

Out of nowhere, it was like she was alone in there, like she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

Her grip was tight around the pole as she gripped it with both her hands, climbing it gracefully. Expensive bills had already begun flying her way, only doing more to spark her provocative attitude. Her legs spread nearly on their own as her movements stayed automatic, moving instinctively to the beat. She spun her body around, enjoying how her own body glided against the coldness of the metal, the contrast with her hot body pulling her to want so much more. She lowered herself, keeping her chin up, rolling her hips close to the pole to provoke whoever wasn’t brave enough to take their eyes off her. For a while, she had completely forgotten that someone in the wave of public could indeed be her professor. The thought only excited her more, taking the little chance that she had actually listened to her to this time really outdo herself like never before. She knew her boobs were pressed up against each other with the tight lace, a perfect target of attention for most. People didn’t even seem to occupy themselves with the entertainment of the dancers on either side of her anymore, a spark of pride setting off inside her chest at the rush of so many people wanting her. Something about that certainty drove her crazy with lust.

The club switched to the next song, softer this time, turning her energy slightly down to fit the beat. Sweat began to trickle down her nape, a few droplets adorning her exposed abs, surely only emphasising her inviting figure. She kneeled down, grabbing everyone’s attention by rolling her body as if she were grinding herself down on the floor, making sure her muscles flexed at the movement. The incoming money being thrown around the platform kept her in a nearly permanent dream-like haze.

The sway in her hips was enough to knock someone out as she walked herself around the stage, dropping onto the floor to crawl around as she arched her back. Having gotten down to the customers’ eye level had cleared out the view in front of her, when she noticed a familiar face in the crowd.

Sat on one of the leather seats, front row, Park Jihyo was reclined against her lounge, legs crossed with an iced beverage twirling between her fingers. Memories from the last time she visited made her remember the black dress she wore, but tonight she seemingly hadn’t stripped herself from her work clothes; a black, expensive-looking tailored pantsuit over a white button up shirt adorned her imposing figure, sat up all nice and quiet in her chair. All she could do was send a smile her way, but the greeting was far from innocent. A thousand thoughts rushed through her head at the sight of her professor in a suit, sat so comfortably while watching her. She was so sure she just saw a wink coming her way.

Four songs for each dancer, that was the deal. Momo was close to ending her last song when she walked down from the stage, ordering some random security guy to go collect her money, who in turn happily complied. Her eyes never strayed away from her professor’s gaze as she approached her, an even more accentuated swerve in her hips because _it was her job after all_.

“Hi.” The dancer said as she got close enough.

“Hi.” She answered, not shying away from looking at her up and down, the edges of her lips twitching into a soft smile as she saw what she had in front of her.

“Like what you see?” Momo dared, walking up even closer to her, resting her arm over her shoulder to lightly massage her. She could smell the familiar citrus fruits shampoo she loved so much.

“It’s not bad, I suppose.” She teased.

“Oh,” The dancer took this as an opportunity to get even closer, swinging a leg over her lap to sit on top of her, “not bad? I guess I’ll just have to move to someone else then.”

Momo flattened the palms of her hands over her pantsuit jacket, parting it slightly to play with the collar of her shirt. Her breasts nearly protruded out of the silky material, pulling its edges where they were tightest. She looked at her in the eye as she undid the first button.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“No? Good.” She added, “Did you like my little dance?”

“Asking a lot of questions, Hirai.”

She chuckled at her words. The air between them had become sharp enough to be cut with a knife. She couldn’t help but indulge in the feeling of being half-naked on top of her work-clad professor. Momo spotted the drink that had been rested on the glass table beside her seat and picked it up smoothly to have a sip herself. She couldn’t recognise the flavour, but she liked that it was strong. A persuading smirk displayed on her face as she took the beverage up to the woman’s lips, nursing her with the alcohol. She was sure whoever was watching her tend to a customer like that could die of envy.

The thumping beat from the speakers was far too loud for her liking, ingraining itself in her brain from having been dancing to it for what felt like hours, but she made no excuse to keep her voice low when speaking to her.

“Don’t you get bored out here, with no one to come entertain you?”

“I’m here because one of the dancers asked for me.” The look on her face was awe-striking, like she was the one in charge here.

“Yeah? And what is this dancer like?”

“Hm,” She pretended to give it some thought, bringing her fingers to her chin while looking up towards the ceiling, “she looks good in red.”

Momo could’ve melted at the tone she used on her. Her voice was low and dripped like honey. Now she was more than sure she made the right choice for her outfit.

“Wouldn’t you like a private room?” She proposed, her fingers gently stroking her collarbone.

“Tell me,” She placed her hands on her thighs, and the touch burned, “what would that be for?”

“I’ll tell you a secret.” This time she leaned in closer, with her body nearly flushed against hers and her breath hot against her ear, “I’ve prepared a dance just for you, wouldn’t you like to see it?”

“Well it would be a shame to waste all that hard work away, wouldn’t it?”

“It will cost you money. I’m expensive.” She declared, continuing to play with the collar of her shirt, pulling it closer towards herself.

“Happy to help the business.”

Momo took that as the last confirmation she needed to get off her lap and lure her out of the main room. She pressed her body against her side as she walked her through a dimly-lit hallway, with glittery lights illuminating the edges of the carpeted floor. She waved at the doorman before the sliding metal doors, signalling that she was going into one of the rooms, mouthing _VIP_ for them to write down.

It took them no trouble in finding a free room —it was the VIP area after all—, luckily enough one of the bigger ones. Purple and blue neon lights served as the only source of illumination around the area, sinking them in a groovy atmosphere. The silver pole at the centre of the room was difficult to miss; not as big as the ones on the main stages but still enough for anyone’s amusement. Jihyo must’ve noticed the silver tray carefully placed on the glass table that complemented the lounge, carrying two tall glasses and a bottle of luxurious champagne, because her comment acted as an indication.

“Is this your way of milking money out of me?” She said with a light chuckle, letting Momo guide her into the room, locking the door behind them.

“Don’t worry,” Momo took slow backwards steps as she guided her to the leather couch, “it’s on the house.”

Jihyo sat herself on the lounge with a persuasive push from the dancer, who in turn walked herself on the little stage, holding tight onto the pole as she watched her professor sit back, relaxing her posture with her legs spread. The sight weakened her in the knees.

Soft, jazzy music played through the much more bearable speakers inside the privacy of the room. Momo focused on putting on a good show to get her money’s worth, though more so for her own contempt. There’s an instant of rush that flushes all over her body and she can’t believe this is happening.

Warmth spread across her body as she noticed how fixed Jihyo’s eyes were on her, the devilish gaze never deviating away from her every move. It hadn’t been often that Momo ever gave private sessions. To be fair, she wouldn’t accept them unless she was getting paid handsomely or the customer was extremely attractive, but an opportunity like this simply couldn’t be wasted.

Jihyo watched her imposingly, freely treating herself with a few sips of her drink here and there. The dancer noticed how a few more of her buttons were undone, suddenly pleased at the sight.

Momo ensured to continue with her pursuit of indulging the woman, conducting her movements to equal the rhythm of the song. At some point, she didn’t know if her body was acting independently from her mind when she submerged herself in the mood, acknowledging the appreciative looks she got, feeling fiercely observed.

The speakers switched to a softer track —which she had picked, keeping her every move in mind that she had thoroughly practiced beforehand—, prompting her to get on the floor to lie down on her back. She deepened their eye contact, letting Jihyo watch her as she rolled her hips, arching her back in an obscene manner. Her lips lightly parted only to make herself look more inviting. Her moves were slow and tantalising, like she was playing a game at finding out how long it would take her customer to stop holding back.

She didn’t miss how Jihyo’s jaw clenched hard when Momo brought her fingers close to her core, trailing them up along her front side while still rolling her hips off the sleek floor. The professor’s grip on her glass tightened when Momo looked at her with those furrowed eyebrows and dropped open mouth.

It must’ve gotten hotter in the room, or rather there were few other explanations for the sweat trickling down Momo’s glossy skin. The song switched again for her to change her moves. This time she stopped playing games. Her ascent next to the pole once again was maintained suave, always knowing what she was doing. She spun around the metal pole a few times, dancing her body around it, making sure she was well exposed.

Maybe it was the temperature in the room, or maybe the mood was too heavy to ignore, but Momo elegantly walked herself off the stage, approaching Jihyo once again to indulge her —or herself, she couldn’t tell.

“You enjoying yourself, Ms. Park?” She whispered in her ear, sitting nice and steady on her lap before even beginning swaying on top of her.

Jihyo’s hands streamed up her back gently, her palms coming into contact with her gleamy bare body. The touch ignited a fire beneath her skin.

She never got an answer to her question, only a satisfied smirk, before she leaned back to pick up her own glass sitting on the plated tray, taking a generous chug. Last time she found herself in such a position it hadn’t felt half as good.

The neon lights saturated Jihyo’s golden skin in navy hues, presenting her in such a deliciously pleasing display. Momo involuntarily smiled into her glass as she took another sip before giving her all the attention she needed.

Normally she’d turn her back to her customer when giving a lap dance, but she couldn’t afford to take her eyes off Jihyo, not when her eyes were half-lidded as she watched her and she bit her lower lip like that. Having her so close in front of her spread warmth all over her body. There had been way too many times where she’d daydreamed about them in this position.

Out of boldness, she has the idea to lean forward, pressing a soft, innocent kiss to her cheek. Her lips linger there on the spot, feeling the softness of her skin before pulling back as if nothing had happened. The action must’ve made Jihyo happy, because she placed her hands on the dancer’s hips, following the movements of her rolls on top of her. The motion caused an undeniable friction when she grinded down on her, the pressure threatening to soak her underwear. Jihyo’s hands got brave and wandered up to her stomach, feeling her muscles as she continued to dance on top of her.

“You look good like this.” She husked.

Her eyes could’ve been occupied with anything else, but they stayed on Momo’s, like they were speaking with no need for words.

All Momo could do was hide the tremor induced by the tight grip on her waist and the low voice that trickled sweetly like honey. She wondered what was going through the woman’s mind when she looked at her like that. She wanted her. She had to.

“I never let customers touch me.” The words simply blurted out before she had time to think them through.

A beat passed.

“Am I not a regular customer to you?” She said, her voice low and steady as she looked at her, both her hands still on her hips.

“No.”

They stared into each other’s eyes like they had so much to say. But none of them dared say a word. Momo’s hips were no longer hungrily grinding down on her in search of friction, instead they had stilled in shock at her own words.

It didn’t feel like it was happening at first, but Jihyo placed her hands on her thighs —each on either side of her—, caressing her comfortingly. Momo’s breathing became heavier when she felt one of her hands leave her thigh to hold her face, gently pressing her thumb over her cheek. Her inaudible breaths turned into a gasp when she felt the woman lean in, their faces mere inches—no, millimetres— away from each other. They got so close Momo could begin feeling her breath against her lips. Before her brain could function, Jihyo lifted her chin slowly with her tempting fingers, placing a tender kiss under her jaw. Her lips felt soft, so soft, and wet, and _good_. It was enough to freeze her on the spot.

Momo pulled back to get a good view, her eyes drooping. If she usually looked heart-stopping she didn’t know how to describe her now. Her short brown hair framed her face perfectly, making her look mature while the softness of her skin and fullness of her cheeks kept her young.

Her heart raced when Jihyo began removing her pantsuit jacket, slowly sliding it off her shoulders to reveal her half-unbuttoned shirt, part of her bra visible through the unwrapped fabric. Momo couldn’t stop herself from staring at her pronounced cleavage, wishing she could sink her head between her soft breasts. She looked so good sat there with the half-opened shirt partly tugged under her tailored pants, and she never, ever, wanted to forget the sight in front of her.

It was as if Momo had become fragile in her arms. The once-alluring and enchanting Hirai Momo turned into a stumbling mess before her, awaiting her every move with perhaps too much desperation. The wetness that pooled in her panties nearly embarrassed her.

“If you want something, ask me.” Jihyo said.

At this point she couldn’t guess if she was being toyed with. It was so close to finally happening.

“I…” Momo couldn’t help but look down, where her eyes found her lower body resting on top of her. The sight of her belt buckled in her trousers drove her crazy for some reason. “I— I’m…”

“What do you want, baby?”

That did it. Momo’s lower belly nearly contracted at the pet name. She couldn’t keep her mind at ease as the heat spread from her core to every limb in her body.

Jihyo sensed her tension, “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

 _Oh my God._ She wasn’t sure who she had to thank for having been able to hold back a moan at her words. She nodded her head shyly, too stricken to look up at her.

“Use your words.”

All the profanity going off in her head didn’t come near to do her feelings justice right now. If her throat would’ve let her, she’d let out a curse.

“Y-yes,” She stuttered, “I want you to… make me feel good.”

“Good girl.”

 _Oh no_. She could swear if she didn’t get touched soon her skin would set on fire and burn her alive. She wasn’t quite sure what to do next, but Jihyo made sure that wouldn’t be a problem for her.

A mere second passed before she felt Jihyo leaning in closer, and she knew the best thing to do was close her eyes and let herself be taken by her. Their lips met, and it wasn’t but a modest peck until Momo parted her lips and let Jihyo’s tongue slide into her mouth. It’s wet and it’s urgent and Momo feels like her body is about to combust. Her mouth tastes like champagne and lipstick. There’s a gasp into the kiss, and neither of them can tell who it came from.

Jihyo’s lips travel down to her jaw, giving her occasional gentle bites that Momo didn’t know she needed so much until now. Her kisses trailed down to her exposed neck, sucking hard to leave a bruise. Momo’s knees buckle inwards at the feeling, pushing against the woman’s sides, her eyes closed in pleasure as she relished her kisses.

At some point, Jihyo presses a wet kiss down to her collarbone, which she follows with delicate licks down between her breasts. Her gaze shoots up at her when she catches Momo staring down, her eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. The sight was lewd.

“You’re so pretty, Momo. So, so beautiful.” She said between pecks.

Momo’s whimpers grew needier as Jihyo allowed herself to reach behind her back, unclasping her lace bra, letting it fall off her shoulders like she was unwrapping a present. At the sight of her exposed breasts, Jihyo let out a long sigh of her own, involuntarily licking the corner of her mouth. Her hands held her tightly in place around her waist as she closed the distance between them, tending to one of her nipples, sucking and grazing her teeth skilfully. She began getting drunk on the sound of Momo’s soft little cries, switching her attention to the other nipple to keep her satisfied.

She didn’t realise she was doing it in the beginning, but Momo began grinding herself down onto her lap again, this time attempting to reach some sort of release. Jihyo certainly didn’t miss her frustration.

“Are you all needy, baby?” She spoke softly against her skin. “Let me see how bad you want me.”

Almost without warning, Jihyo slid her palm down her abs, resting under her navel to stroke her for a while. Her hand lowered further down, retrieving begging whimpers from the girl on top of her. Momo didn’t realise she had been holding in her breath as she waited to be touched, releasing a gasp when she felt the tips of Jihyo’s fingers playing with the hem of her underwear.

“Please…” She wailed, eyes shut with despair.

It wasn’t worth teasing her much longer. Jihyo slid her hand under her panties, being greeted with the hot wetness dripping from her core.

“You’re soaking,” She breathed, almost talking to herself, “is this for me?”

Momo’s hips buckled once again at the stern tone in her voice. She bit her knuckles attempting to avoid crying out too loud at the contact, nodding her head rapidly to confirm Jihyo’s query.

“Such a good girl.”

She watched Momo struggle as she rubbed at her wetness for a while, grazing over her clit, pushing down slightly harder each time. She wasted no time in sliding a finger inside her, her walls tightly closing in around her digit. The action elicited Momo’s first proper moan, indulging her in the sound of her hazy voice. A thirst for more made Jihyo push in a second finger, pumping in and out as the girl struggled to keep still on top of her. Her heavy pants had turned into short, sharp moans that filled the room.

Wanting nothing more than to see Jihyo in front of her, Momo forced her eyes open to look back at her. Her half-lidded eyes did so much to ignite further arousal.

“Do you like it like this?” She said lowly, thrusting her fingers in and out of her hard but steadily.

“Y-yes…” She lightly bounced against her hand, following her pace as she rode her fingers.

There was no blaming her for staring at her generous breasts, not when they sat there in front of her, threatening to fall out of her tight shirt. If only she’d let a few more buttons loose…

“You like staring, don’t you? You think I don’t catch you looking all the time?”

Momo’s breath catches up in her throat. She hadn’t realised her… _fixation_ had been that evident all along. The display of her shock must’ve been obvious, because Jihyo used her free hand to undo the few buttons she had left, letting her boobs fall out, still restrained by her white bra. She unclasped it from the front, pleasing Momo with the sight of her nipples as her deft fingers continued working hard between her legs.

“You can touch.”

Jihyo’s fingers found her own and guided her trembling hand to her chest, letting her place her palm over her nipple to get a steady grip. At the action, Jihyo felt her clench around her fingers.

Momo took a chance to squeeze at her breast, unexpectedly eliciting a quiet groan from the woman. The sound steamed something up inside her, only encouraging her to keep going. Jihyo must’ve liked it, assuming from the half-moan that caught up in her throat as Momo continued her duty of kneading at her boobs.

There’s a moment of hesitation coursing through Momo, but the sight is enough to possess her, urging her to lower her head to wrap her mouth around one of her dusky nipples. Her doubts are resolved when Jihyo tugs her head closer with her free hand, whining her name. Her new found sensitivity only makes her clench harder around her fingers. A shiver runs down her spine as she feels her hands caressing her hair so tenderly, keeping her busy as she works. She feels Jihyo’s fingers subtly slow down inside her, unable to function at the pleasure of Momo’s labor.

“You’re doing so well,” Jihyo tried between moans. “Ah… That’s enough, baby. That’s enough.” She lifted Momo’s head up to her from her chin, her face all flushed and clammy. The wet patch of dribble on her lips glistened under the soft lights of the room.

If only she knew how crazy she drove her. Momo could only wish to get down on her knees to unbuckle her belt and get trapped between her thighs, but it seemed like that was not Jihyo’s intention for her. Another time, maybe. _Another time_.

Maybe she had her years of experience to thank, but Jihyo certainly knew how to handle a woman’s body. Momo could feel herself getting tighter at her performance, her warmth igniting from her core and her lower belly contracting. If her words would let her, she’d warn her that she was close, but Jihyo was quick enough to catch on. She knew it was over for her when she felt her thumb press against her clit, drawing uneven circles around it.

“Show me how good it feels.” Her voice was husky against her ear, pushing her closer on top of her, “Come for me.”

And with that, Momo’s head falls back, her eyes hitting the back of her skull. A strained moan catches up in her throat as she goes over the edge. Her hips buck on top of her as she feels her fingers still pumping her out through her orgasm. She feels her body go limp as she drops on top of her, still twitching all over even minutes after Jihyo’s done with her.

In her post-orgasm haze she can feel a hand hovering over her back, like it’s hesitating. She keeps her eyes closed in the crook of her neck, wishing Jihyo will let herself caress her.

She’s still quietly panting into her ear when she feels her hand finally rest on the small of her back, stroking her in an almost romantic way. A voice tells her to stay there forever.

It feels like everything has clicked into place, with Jihyo taking care of her, drawing small shapes into her back and her soft chest rising and falling underneath her. Until she feels a sting in her heart.

Momo thought it would be okay. She thought it wouldn’t hurt to lean into her, looking for her lips again. She thought they both liked tasting each other on their tongues. So why did Jihyo pull back when she pressed her lips on hers one more time? Why did she push her away?

Momo had never looked so vulnerable in her life. Naked and lost on top of someone she wants, trying to read her expression and finding nothing. Her eyes gleamed in the dim lights, the neon hues now looking so blue. She waited for Jihyo to say something, too scared to try to kiss her again. Maybe she was too scared to find out something she didn’t want to know. Her voice sounded so small when she spoke.

“What is it?”

Another empty stare from her. She suddenly felt too weak, like she had to cover herself up with anything to protect herself. Now was not the time to cry.

For an instant she wanted to believe she saw a sparkle in her eyes when she looked back at her. Her breathing stopped as she waited for her to say something. Anything.

“I have to go.”

Her tone had never seemed so dry, not with her, and Momo had never felt so cold in her life.

“W-what?”

There was a part of her that expected her to say something else, but those are the last words she hears from her for the night. She’s pushed to the side, off of her, like she’s being discarded. There’s a mark of her wetness she’s left on her lap, but she can’t bring herself to feel aroused by it. It doesn’t feel good anymore.

So many times Momo had thought they could speak without words. Now was one of those times. She knew Jihyo had so much more to say, she could see it in the way she looked at her. There was something in her eyes, but she couldn’t tell if it was guilt or disgust.

All she could do was sit, naked, watching as Jihyo silently put her pantsuit jacket back on after buttoning up her shirt. She wants to tell her to stay, but she’s too scared her voice will crack if she does.

The time reads 02:09, way past the time for the hour she had paid for, but Momo stays quiet, silently watching her as she walks away.


	8. Positive Nihilism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point they must bump into each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't proof read so i hope it isn't too terrible

How could someone be so confusing? Momo was at a complete loss for words. The scene would not stop replaying in her head. The way she had turned her body away from her, not even looking back at her one last time… it hurt. They had been just fine, she knew it. They had both enjoyed it, they both wanted it as bad. Was it something she did? Why didn’t she say anything? How could she have gone from taking care of her so well to tossing her off to the side as if she were some sort of toy she could just throw away once she was finished with it? The banging in her head was about to make her explode.

It would hurt to admit it, but Momo found herself going back to the last message she had sent her again and again. The little heart next to her contact name was only painful to witness; it now felt like a mistake to even think she had the audacity to put it there in the first place. Even Sana knew something wasn’t right when she heard her arrive back home that night, cold and confused.

Momo had walked straight to her room after letting herself into their apartment, not even looking up at Sana, who watched her from the couch with a puzzled look on her face, illuminated by the TV screen. She had been there for her so many times that Momo couldn’t even bare the idea of dragging her into another one of her troubles.

Still, she heard her call her name from outside her room.

“Momoring?” Her voice was as soft as could be, and Momo knew, even if she couldn’t see her, that she had a sad frown on her face, “Momoring? Can I come in?”

Momo sank her face into her pillow, considering whether or not to answer her friend. Momo was an adult, but there were times where she felt so small she could break in someone’s arms. The thought of being so childishly fragile only added more to her disappointment in herself. She could still feel the long-lasting ache between her legs. It only ached more when she thought of it again.

Another knock on the door, this time followed by the sound of the handle twisting. The state of her room right now wasn’t exactly ideal. Most of her used clothes found themselves spread around the floor in a distasteful manner, clearly not a very attractive image for anyone other than Sana to witness, who was more than used to the sight. One of the disregarded garments was in fact Ms. Park’s sweatshirt that she had leant her that night at her house. She wouldn’t wear it all the time but instead hug it close when she slept, so she could still smell her. Now that she thought of it, the action was depressing.

Momo could hear Sana skip over the pile of clothes —a bigger skip over what she supposed must’ve been her sports bag that had been forgotten about as soon as she locked herself in— and over to her bed. Something made her too scared to look up at her.

She felt the bed dip beside her and a hand gently found her hair, stroking it with the best intention to relieve her, but the touch only brought the thoughts back.

“Are you going to look at me?” She heard Sana’s voice from under her crossed arms, muffling the sound coming from over her head. Anyone must’ve thought she looked like she was hiding.

Momo took a deep breath into her pillow, scared that she might be too sensitive to hold this conversation, but lifted her head to meet Sana’s eyes. From her expression, she could tell Sana really cared. The certainty warmed her heart.

“Did something happen?” Sana removed her hand from her hair as she noticed Momo lifting herself from her hands to sit up. She took her time waiting for her to answer, simply sitting beside her in the dark.

“I don’t know,” Momo muttered, “I don’t know what happened.” She sounded truly lost.

“You don’t know what happened?” Sana repeated, more to herself than as a question, “Did Ms. Park come to see you?”

She hoped the wince at her name wasn’t visible.

“Yes.”

“And did you do a private session for her?”

“Yes.”

“And something happened.”

She didn’t answer that one, because she knew it wasn’t a question. Momo looked down to herown hands, where she was playing with the hem of her loose sweatshirt, twirling it around in her fingers. It was late. Sana should be in bed.

“Are those marks from her?”

Her breath hitched up in her throat as she looked up at Sana pointing at her neck. Of course she had left marks on her. She’d be turned on if it weren’t for the fact that it was the first time hickeys hurt her. Momo simply nodded her head, too afraid to look at her in the eye.

“Did she hurt you?” There was no point in asking the obvious question, at this point they both knew each other well enough to exchange information without actually talking. She knew Sana understood what happened in the private room.

“No, no.” She was quick to intervene, like she had to defend her, “She was so gentle with me.”

“So you tell me what happened.” Sana said.

“Okay.” She cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ears, sitting up properly, “Well… She— I took her to one of the VIP rooms, the ones with the blue lights, and I danced for her a bit. And… the club served some champagne in the room so she was helping herself to it —and I had some too, but you know— so I did what I had practiced but then she was sitting with her legs spread and she looked so good and I thought I’d give her a lap dance. So I did. And then we kinda got closer and closer and we kinda both knew we wanted to… you know, and then… well.”

Sana was looking at her carefully with her eyebrows furrowed, following every word. She must’ve noticed Momo was embarrassed to speak too much.

“You can tell me anything, you know that.” She said. There was an attempt at a smile, but it looked too worried to convey any warmth.

“I know. Sorry.” She took another deep breath before she continued. “We made out for a while. And she began touching me around my body and it felt so good. I kept thinking about the fact that she was my professor and that kinda… you know, made me hornier.” She stopped to laugh at herself, “So then she touched me properly and— Sana, I promise you nobody has ever done it like her. She’s… It was like she knew my body perfectly. And her fingers… Like, I’ll stop myself right there but Jesus Christ. And she talks dirty.” Sana’s little giggle calmed her, “So anyway, she kept doing her thing and let me… do things to her boobs… So with all that I finished. And then I was so confused.”

“Why? That didn’t sound bad at all.”

Momo paused, like she was searching for the right words to say, “I don’t _know_. Everything was going so well— maybe it was me? Maybe I misinterpreted the whole situation, Sana. I don’t know.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“She… I mean, it was perfect at first. She made me come so hard and I was, like, wasted on top of her. And I could feel she was deciding on whether or not to hug me afterwards, when I was lying on top of her. But then she did, and we stayed like that for a while. Like we were cuddling. It felt nice. It felt really, really nice. But then I must’ve been out of my mind, because I leaned in to give her another kiss and she pulled back.”

“Really?” She seemed more surprised than her.

Momo just nodded, “I didn’t understand she didn’t want to kiss me —like, can you blame me?—, so stupid little me tried again, but she pushed away again and the look on her face… Sana… It— I didn’t like it.”

“Momoring,” Sana leaned closer to hug her when she saw her chin tremble, “Momoring, it’s not your fault.”

“And then I asked her what was wrong and she wouldn’t say anything, and—” She hoped the crack in her voice could be ignored, “She just got dressed and left me there. She left me there alone and didn’t say a word to me.”

Momo sank her face in Sana’s shoulder, letting her hug her gently. She really didn’t have the energy to cry right now, but the tears threatened to spill out.

“Don’t get angry at me,” Sana spoke softly as she continued patting Momo’s back, “but she’s a bitch.”

“No, she just… There must’ve been a reason.”

“No. She lead you on. And then got rid of you.”

Hearing Sana’s words —the scene now hitting her as more than just a figment of her blurred imagination, Momo could feel the fabric of Sana’s shirt beginning to soak as tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t believe she was letting herself cry at this. There was no way she could’ve known just how deeply this could have ever affected her. It was humiliating.

“What am I gonna do?” Her voice was muffled against her shoulder, “She was so good to me.”

“Maybe what’s best is to just forget about her.”

There was something about her tone that made her words sound so final. Like that was it. It hadn’t occurred to her until she had heard it just how much she actually considered Jihyo. That had to be more than just a simple sexual interest or a crush. An unexpected tear streamed down her cheek.

“I thought we had something going on. I really did.” Her voice cracked.

They both lay there. Sana slept with her that night. It would all be better in the morning.

—

“I fucked up.” She said through the phone’s speaker. Her voice sounded unusually off.

“What did you do, Hyo?” On the other line, Nayeon answered her with a sleepy voice. The callhad waken her up from her sleep.

It was way too late at night —or early in the morning for most— to be calling her. She knew it would probably be best to keep her post-fuckup thoughts to herself but that wasn’t an option when her mind had raced to the speed of light ever since she last stepped out of that room at the club. She couldn’t even concentrate on her drive home, an ache between her legs that didn’t even come close to the distress she felt from the ache in her chest. She sat on the edge of her bed, where Momo had previously been when she stayed that night, listening to Nayeon’s voice in the dark.

“I don’t know what the fuck I did. I messed up.”

There was a pause. Light snoring could be heard from the other side of the line, followed by a rustling sound of bed sheets being shoved to the side.

“Wait a second,” Nayeon said, struggling to get out of the bed, “Jeong is sleeping. Let me get out of the room, I don’t want to wake her.”

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t get a reply to that one. Fair enough, she thought —what else could she expect for waking her up because of her own mistakes.

“Alright,” Nayeon said after a moment, “tell me what happened.”

“I had sex with her.”

“Okay.” She said after a beat. “I mean I expected that, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Jihyo replied, hesitant, “But it didn’t end well.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah.”

They both kept quiet for a while, unsure of what to say, and Jihyo felt like that silence was the loudest she’d ever heard. So she continued.

“She took me to a private room. She’d been flirting with me all night, flashing her boobs in my face, staring at me, all of that. So we both knew what was going on. I knew I wanted to make a move on her, at least. I wasn’t thinking.” She paused, staring at the ceiling of her room, “When she gave me a lap dance, I started grabbing her hips more so she’d get the hint. Which she did, because then she said something about me being the only person she allows to touch her during private sessions or something.”

“Must be disgusting to have creeps touch her. At least she could have some fun with you.” Nayeon mentioned.

“I know. I’ve never told her this because I don’t want her to think I’m concerned about her job or anything, but sometimes I worry something might happen to her. She acts tough but I know it can be hard for her.”

“I’ve noticed that too.”

“Anyway. I sort of indirectly asked her if she felt like having sex and she was being pretty obvious at that point, so I— you know. I fucked her.”

“Classic Park Jihyo.” She heard Nayeon snort through the phone’s speakers.

“What’s that supposed to mean.” She demanded, ready to snap back.

“Nothing. You were saying.”

Jihyo’s face contorted into an expression of disapproval which Nayeon couldn’t see. And after a second, she continued.

“Yeah, so I’ll spare the details, obviously, but when I made her finish she was completely spent on top of me. She had her face in my neck and she was still breathing hard and the feeling was too much. I loved it. I wanted it to last forever and it was like she was mine for a second. But then something told me I had just stepped over a line. I’m her teacher. What if someone finds out about this? What am I gonna say? I’d get her in trouble, she’d never hear the end of it.”

“Hyo, what are you talking about?” She tried her best to calm her down, careful not to wake her wife in the room next to her. “What is the problem here?”

“I left her there, Nayeon. She tried to kiss me again and I wouldn’t let her. I got so scared. I thought I had to put an end to it before someone got hurt, but I think it was too late for that.”

She felt pathetic.

“You’re seeing things out of proportion.” Nayeon replied, “I think you’re being insecure. You both wanted it. You’re both consenting adults mature enough to make your own decisions. She wanted it as bad as you did, Hyo. You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

At some point Jihyo began feeling numb. There was something about Momo that clicked in with her. Recently, she had found out she was happier around her. It suddenly felt like that idea was so far away.

“The look in her eyes when I told her I was leaving broke my fucking heart. I can’t believe I just fucking did that. I want to apologize to her and tell her I want her. I wish I could just hug her and say sorry and everything would go back to the way it was before. I don’t know what to do. I’m so tired.”

It felt like she was monologuing the words on her own. She felt so ridiculous, so guilty. The wristwatch on her nightstand ticked as she waited for Nayeon to say something again.

“You acted on your emotions. That’s how you respond to things, Hyo. You’re impulsive, that’s okay.” She went from whispering to softening her voice. “Listen, I know you. It’s really late and you’re exhausted and everything seems a thousand times worse than it actually is. I need you to get some rest and think about it in the morning. We’ll figure something out.”

It took a second for Jihyo to respond, still lingering in past thoughts. “You’re right.” She said, exhausted. “Thank you.”

“Have some rest now. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—

Maybe being punctual for the first time ever hadn’t been a good idea after all. Momo walked intothe lecture hall, expecting to be the only one in the room, only to find Ms. Park sitting at her desk, glasses perched up to her nose, going over some notes. For a second she thought her fight or flight instinct activated, suddenly panicking and unable to decide what to do. Her body stood in place beside the door as she stared at her, watching a strand of short hair fall in front of her face as she wrote something down on her sheet of paper. Even this early in the morning she looked good.

A wave of students suddenly washed over her, walking past her to take their seats with displeased and tired faces. And when she suddenly felt exposed to being perceived by other people, she remembered the hickeys on her neck that she couldn’t get rid of. No one would ever know who gave them to her. They wouldn’t know the person in front of them was the one responsible. The thought was like a shot of adrenaline right through her system. Maybe she could still talk to Ms. Park.

She took her books out of her bag after finding her seat and placed them on her desk with a thump, eagerly flicking through the last couple of pages she hadn’t read for today. Ms. Park never got mad at her anyway, so what was the point.

Dahyun sat next to her, greeting her with a bright smile. Someone was in a good mood.

“Hi.” She said as she opened her laptop in front of her.

“Hey.” Momo responded. Not nearly as enthusiastic as her.

“Did you read the chapter?” Dahyun asked her, her eyes deviating to her neck where Momo is sure she could see the hickeys that still hadn’t faded off. She didn’t mention them.

“Most of it. You?”

“Yeah. I don’t agree with it, though.”

“Thought you wouldn’t.”

A scribbling sound of chalk on the blackboard caught their attention. At the front of the classroom, Ms. Park wrote _Nihilism_ in clear handwriting, turning back to face her students in a fluid motion.

“I hope you all got some rest over the weekend.” She started, walking to her desk, “We left it off last week at chapter 6, no? I’ll just assume you all read the following chapter so I’ll skip over it to talk about something else. Those who haven’t read it, suit yourselves. Your negligence is not my problem.”

Momo gulped. She’d never seen her so stern.

“Right then. I’m sure you’re all familiar with Nihilism, so let’s just get to the point.” She sounded like she wanted to get it all over with. It was unusual to see her like this. On any other occasion, Ms. Park would’ve taken her time with each topic discussed, speaking about each philosopher’s ideas passionately enough to understand how much she loved doing what she did. Today was different.

No matter how hard she tried, Momo’s mind kept shifting elsewhere; the sight of Jihyo in front of her made it too hard to forget everything she didn’t want to remember. She watched her as she walked around in front of the blackboard, scribbling down words, circling and connecting ideas to each other without paying much attention to the meanings themselves. Momo let her mind go on autopilot for a while, finding it too hard to keep up.

Someone’s voice shook her out of her daydream when she turned around to look at the person talking. Some random guy in her class she’d never spoken to, who happened to be answering one of Ms. Park’s questions. She disagreed with him.

“Thank you, Hwang.” Jihyo responded to his suggestion, “You have a point, I admit, but Nietzsche might’ve preferred using the term _Superhuman_ , since the original German word doesn’t specify gender.”

Momo raised her hand as the lecture reverted back to talking about the origins of Nihilism. She didn’t know what she was thinking, but when Ms. Park directed her gaze at her for the first time since they’d stepped in the same room, it was too late to pull back.

She thought she was being ignored at first, but she could promise herself she felt like they were staring into each other for ages. Her expression couldn’t be read at all.

“You’d like to add something, Hirai?” She said with a low voice, looking back down once again to avoid her eyes. Momo wondered if she had noticed the marks on her neck.

“Uh… Well, I just thought that it would be interesting to mention the different interpretations of Nihilism, such as positive or—”

“Where did you get that from.” Ms. Park demanded, cutting her off completely.

Before Momo even had time to process what had just happened, Ms. Park continued, “There is no such thing as positive or negative Nihilism. What you might be referring to is Absurdism, a different belief that actually exists and wasn’t made up and spread around by the Internet. You should leave your own personal opinions out of this philosophy class, Hirai. We don’t have time for them.”

Out of anything, that was the last thing she was expecting. A faint _ouch_ could be heard coming from Dahyun’s side, embarrassing her entirely. She’d never felt so stupid in a classroom before. It was like she needed to get out of there, but that would only bring more attention to herself.

“Let’s move on.” She heard Jihyo say.

Jihyo, who had come to see her that night. Jihyo, who held her so tightly and touched her so gently. She couldn’t believe all that had been real. Even less what was happening now. Nobody in this room knew what she could be like, nobody knew she had Ms. Park all to herself.

The seconds ticked away as she endured the painful wait for the lecture to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry ;-; i was definitely NOT planning on angst but it just happened naturally. dw it gets better


	9. Tradeoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order to gain something, one must let another thing go.

Her reflection stared back at her through the bathroom’s mirror. The marks had nearly faded away, finally giving her a rest from the constant flashing reminder of who had been there. That moment in the lecture hall was the last time they had spoken to each other, and Momo believed it might as well just be. She took her time splashing cold water on to her face, rubbing her eyes hard.

That day she had made a decision.

The strip club was hard to get to without a car of her own; not all the busses were consistent and no public transport ever took the right turn to easily get to where it was at the side of the road. After a long and sweaty walk from the closest bus stop to her destination, she stepped in through the back door with aching legs, going straight to her locker room without stopping by the booth at the entrance, since she knew it was too early for anyone to have arrived yet. She thought she was alone, for a while, only to —of course— bump into her boss, who was suspiciously walking out of the girls’ locker room. As far as she was concerned, men weren’t allowed in there. She gave him a questioning look but said nothing of it.

“It’s a Monday.” He said, clearing his throat.

“I know.”

“So what are you doing here.” His tone was urgent, like he wanted to quickly switch the attention to her —or anywhere else.

She walked past him, not bothering to waste her time. “Came to collect some things.” She said without a beat of hesitance. She noticed him walking up to her from behind. _Always so creepy_ , she thought.

“You think you can just walk in here and take anything you like?”

“They’re my clothes.” Momo defended sharply, opening her locker’s door after a short struggle with the lock. “Why are you spying on me?”

“Because you always do whatever you want. Do you want me to get rid of you? Is that it?”

She didn’t even give him the pleasure of answering his stupid question. At this point, she was so sick of it she really didn’t mind getting fired. It’s not like she did it for the money, anyway.

“You’re on your very last call—”

“Without me you’d go bankrupt.” Momo dared.

The threat seemed to shut him up for a second. He stared back blankly at her, clenching his jaw hard. Momo went back to what she was doing.

“We don’t need you as much as you think.” He said after a while.

“Fine. You won’t mind me quitting, then.”

That was the ultimatum that would finally get it all over with, and after her boss was left speachless in his spot, that was it. After all this time. She was sure Jinyoung’s pride would never let him go after her, not after the humiliation he must’ve felt when he wasn’t in control. But that was a good thing. A strange sense of freedom washed over her body as she walked out of those metal doors, no longer owing anything to anyone. The walk home felt lighter and, as the afternoon sun shone softly over her skin, the warm feeling made her feel safe.

—

Yet another one of her stacks of papers lay on the edge of her kitchen table, untouched and unread. She didn’t have the energy, she didn’t have the patience nor did she even want to get anywhere near them. It might’ve been true that she was going against her usual methods —always wanting to fulfil her duties as a professor excellently so her students would feel like they were being treated fairly—, but something shifted within her. Something that she couldn’t quite pin down. The unfamiliar feeling of not being able to overcome her unwillingness to work deeply distressed her. She knew what it was that she couldn’t get out of her head, but with the intention of keeping it to herself, she didn’t voice her thoughts, too scared for them to become real if she did.

The TV could be faintly heard in the background. It was switched on to make her feel like she had a distraction, but most likely to distract her with the illusion of not being alone. She sat herself on the sofa, leaning her body on the armrest. She could always grade those essays tomorrow, she thought as she sank down on the couch, laying on her side.

She thought about Momo. She thought about how intelligent she was, how witty her remarks had always been, how interesting her book recommendations sounded. She missed discussing which philosopher would have what job if they hadn’t become philosophers in the first place. They could always chat together so easily. Momo always made her laugh, even if she tried to hold it in to seem professional. So many times she’d laugh on her own, remembering something Momo might’ve said at some random time. Even scrolling through social media she found posts that made her think: _Momo would like this_. She had gotten too comfortable with the idea that she was hers. She wasn’t. She never had been. And continuing with her completely imbecilic attitude, she’d never be. She had to apologise to her. Or, at the very least, offer an explanation. But getting close to her again might only hurt her more. It was like trying to put out a fire with her own bare hands. Even if she tried her hardest, she’d still hurt herself as much. The thing was, Jihyo didn’t even recognise her own feelings. It was funny, in a way. It was so easy for her to read other people, but when it came to herself, it was like she was a stranger. Her mind went back to that moment in the lecture hall. What the fuck was wrong with her. It seemed unbelievable how she considered herself to be a woman of such mature emotional intelligence, yet couldn’t understand that people wouldn’t confuse _being friendly_ with _I slept with my student_. The hyper-obsession with what happened had gone beyond affecting her, but at this point it no longer mattered how she thought she was doing the right thing by pretending nothing happened. Momo had to know about this. It was so, so unfair. And how confusing and downright _suspicious_ must it look for others to see her mistreat Momo like that when she always treated her the best. Now it was like she was ready to spit on her. Without even thinking, she reached for her phone facing down on the coffee table in front of her couch. Like she was on autopilot, she opened Momo’s chat. The last message she had sent her was the day before it all happened, when she agreed to go see her at the club. If only she’d said no.

But no matter how badly she wanted to fix things between them, her thumbs hovered over the keyboard without pressing down on a sinle character, too scared to move. Instead, she stared at Momo’s profile picture. It seemed like she was at some beach, smiling next to another girl. It must be Sana. Yes, surely it was Sana, with the happy eyes and pointed nose. But her gaze wouldn’t leave Momo’s smiling expression. She zoomed in to her face. She wished she could see her like that again.

Her mind wandered as she swiped off her profile picture, too unwilling to stop herself from scrolling through earlier messages. She secretly loved how Momo typed so informally, not even bothering to correct her typos because she was clever enough not to waste her time when sheknew she got her point across. As she continued reading earlier messages, she realised that was her mistake. An inevitable sigh escaped her mouth when she stopped at the sight of those pictures again. Those accidental pictures that had been driving her crazy from the moment she received them. She shouldn’t, but she clicked on them, zooming in to her body. The lingerie set she was wearing in them was the same she wore at the club when she was riding her fingers on top of her. She’d already noticed at the time, but decided it would be best not to let Momo know. Jihyo unconsciously let out a faint _fuck_ under her breath when she looked at her flexed abs, her eyes then trailing down to her strong thighs. Her moral compass seemed to have left her body when, before she knew it, her hand was slipping inside her sweats and over her panties, pressing down to relieve the tension. She slid her middle finger on her clit, over the dampening fabric of her underwear. She stared at Momo’s body through half-lidded eyes as she sneaked her hand inside, gathering her wetness with her fingers.

“Fuck it.” She husked to herself, her breath catching up in her throat as she drew lazy circles over her clit.

She wished Momo was there with her, to kiss her gently and hold her tight. A knot tied up in her throat as she kept going; the harder she pleasured herself the tighter it got. She struggled to keep her eyes open to look at her body as she got closer and Momo’s name slipped past her lips in a breathy moan.

It only took a couple more strokes for her to come. She went over the edge looking at Momo’s self-portrait through furrowed eyebrows and rough breaths, so soon it was embarrassing. A wave of post-orgasm disgust washed over her as her hormones settled down, making her instantly regret what she just did. _It’s just one after the other_. _What would poor Momo think if she saw this_. She pulled her hand out of her trousers, trying not to get the excessive wetness of her fingers anywhere, but too lazy to get up and wash herself. So she lay there for a while, reflecting, until she was too tired to get up anymore.

—

Sana had insisted on walking with her out of class. Momo agreed, but only because she wanted to give her the pleasure of thinking she was helping in any way. She was probably just feeling sorry for her, after all. They no longer took any classes together, but the class where Momo took logic was right next to Sana’s linguistics class, where they’d always meet right outside. Earlier on, Sana would always wait for Ms. Myoui to walk out and whisper something childish about how elegant she looked in Momo’s ear. It was ironic when Momo thought about it, seeing how things were now. Now, Sana waited for Dahyun and completely forgot about her professor.

Dahyun thankfully couldn’t make it to class today, what meant that Momo wouldn’t have to put up with constant touchings and innocent pecks. She was happy for them, of course, but they could sometimes become a bit much. Especially from Sana’s side.

Momo felt a light tap on her shoulder coming from behind, shaking her out of her trance of skimming through the last few pages of the chapter they had discussed in class. She turned around to a bright-smiling Sana.

“Let’s go.” She said.

Sana took her hand as they walked out of the faculty. She held it tight. Momo appreciated that.

“You know, I sneaked some ice cream in the groceries. Like, lots of it.” Sana mentioned as they entered the main building to leave campus, “We can have some when we get home. I got your favourite.” She added with a smile that reached her eyes.

Momo’s heart felt warmer. “Thank you.”

According to their familiarity with each other, they were more than used to the dynamic of Sana talking nonstop and Momo listening. Momo felt more than happy to have it that way; it meant she didn’t have to talk if she didn’t feel like it, and Sana would always understand.

“I just realized today,” Sana said as they walked down some stairs, “that I had been reading a completely different book than the one I was supposed to. All this time—” She stopped to giggle at herself. “I had been reading the wrong book! You should’ve seen the look on Ms. Myoui’s face when she handed me back my commentary.”

Momo was sure Sana was happy to have drawn a giggle from her.

“Sounds like something you’d do.” Momo smiled.

“I even surprised myself this time.”

On the walk back, most people had already left campus to go to their apartments. It was unusually quiet, but it was how she liked it best. As they walked through the main hall, the opendoor of a private room caught Momo’s attention by chance. She noticed someone familiar from the corner of her eye. Sitting at one of the desks in the office was Ms. Im, who looked like she needed a break from everything. Momo stopped in track to look at her hesitantly.

“What?” Sana said when she noticed she had fallen behind.

“You go ahead.” She replied, still looking at Ms. Im through the door.

Sana followed Momo’s gaze to where the professor was sitting inside the room. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, but when she was about to ask her, Momo had already disappeared.

When Momo approached the door, she noticed Ms. Im’s foundation was visible under her eyes. She must’ve been really tired. Her hair, though, looked well in place and styled into an elegant low ponytail. After an instant of hesitance, she carefully knocked twice on the door before hearing a quiet _come in_ giving her permission to step inside. Momo stopped before her, leaving a gap between herself and the table.

“Ms. Im.” She greeted.

The professor lifted her gaze from her table and directed it to Momo. Her face changed in what looked like an expression of shock when she recognized her, only an instant later.

“Hirai.” She said, sitting up properly. “Is everything okay?” Something strange in her tone striked her, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Have you seen Ms. Park anywhere?” Momo said.

“She went home.” It took a second for her to answer her question. Somehow, her tone seemed apologetic.

“Oh.” She replied. “Okay then.”

There was not much else she could say to her if she hadn’t found what she was looking for. Feeling slightly defeated, she bid her boodbye before turning her back to her and going on her way to find Sana again. She hoped Ms. Im wouldn’t think that—

“Wait.” The same voice stopped her from behind.

Momo turned her back again, curious, and with a streak of hope threatening to deceive her again. She walked back to her table, silently warning herself of getting her hopes too high. It wouldn’t be her first disappointment.

“Momo.” Ms. Im started. Even in their few interactions, she had never called her by her first name before. Thinking about it, she wasn’t even sure how she knew her name in the first place. “Do you mind sitting down for a minute?”

Too scared to talk, she quietly sat herself down in the chair next to her, dropping her bag to the side with a faint thump. It all felt very familiar for such an unordinary situation.

“I feel like…” Ms. Im began, placing her elbow on the table with three fingers holding the weight of her head, “Like I need to talk to you about this. But if you feel uncomfortable at any given moment just know we can abandon this conversation and pretend like nothing happened.”

Momo just stared at her with an apprehensive look on her face. She nodded slightly as she waited for her to continue.

“Jihyo has probably told you this before, but we’re very close. We tell each other everything. That means she tells me certain thigs too.” She paused to make sure Momo was following her. “What I’m trying to say is… I know about you two.”

It wasn’t like she was expecting anything else, but the verbalization of the situation still shocked her. Momo gulped.

“Oh.” Was the only thing she felt like she could get past her throat.

She had imagined herself in this situation before. When she thought about what might happen, she assumed a thousand thoughts would be rushing through her head fast enough to make her faint. But in reality, her mind was completely blank.

“And, before anything, I am not here to judge nor am I here to get into anyone’s business. I’m not like that.” She continued. “Jihyo… she… She needs to get her shit together.”

Momo was visibly shocked at the statement. Still, she said nothing, letting her finish.

“She’s a sensitive person when it comes down to it. And she’s insanely good at empathizing with others, but when it comes to her own feelings she’s useless at understanding them. From what I’ve heard, and from how much I know her, she might not have meant any harm, but that doesn’t excuse her from being a fucking bitch. Part of me is scared you’ll think she’s abusing her power, and that was one of her main worries when she got into this with you, trust me, but I feel like I need to tell you that she adores you.”

Each word was like a stab in the heart. Hearing such a thing triggered something inside her, and before she knew it, she had tears in her eyes. Before she could stop herself, she was crying. There was no energy left in her to hold it in anymore, and she didn’t have the strength to believe what she was saying. She felt the professor’s hand gently touch her arm.

“That’s—” Momo stuttered between sobs as she covered her face with the palms of her hands. “That’s not true. It’s not true.”

The whole scenario played in her head all over again. She was trying so hard to get rid of it, and it was finally working —only for it to come crumbling back down again.

“It is true, Momo. Please believe me.” She said as she gave her best attempt at calming her by stroking her arm delicately. Momo could at least appreciate the gesture. “She might seem so big and strong to you but she’s scared. This might sound ridiculous to you —and I won’t blame you if it does—, but all she wanted was to avoid hurting you.”

Momo couldn’t believe her ears. There was no way she could accept Ms. Im wasn’t just adding to her confusion.

“She lead me on. She doesn’t want me.” Momo tried. “It’s like she used me as her toy.”

The look on Ms. Im’s face was regretful.

“Momo.” She started.

The girl stopped to look up at her through watery eyes, waiting patiently for her to go on.

“She hasn’t shut up about you since you changed majors.” The statement was like a shock right into her system. Ms. Im continued. “I knew from the start she wanted you. She’d always babble on about how you always made her rethink her philosophical stances with your comments. She’d go on and on about how impressed she was of your intelligence. She’d even sneak in comments about some cute skirt you wore or how she had to stop herself from tidying up your ruffled hair some day you were in a rush. Trust me when I say she’s _never_ talked about any of her studentsthat way. You can’t believe how worried she was when she called me that night after she left the club. She called me at three in the morning, Momo. She didn’t care about waking me up because you are more important to her than I am. I, who have been her friend for more than ten years. And when you stayed at her’s for the night? Oh boy. She would _not_ keep it together for a _second_ , I promise you.”

It was like Momo didn’t want to accept what she was hearing. First it was one thing, then it was the other. It was too scary to let her guard back down again when she saw how determined she looked when leaving her alone after having fucked her. She didn’t want to be deceived again. But there was still a little part in her that believed things out of desire for them to be true. When she failed to say anything, Ms. Im spoke again.

“I’ve talked to her. I told her to get her shit in line. Now, listen. You’re really young. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being naive, and Jihyo would _never_ want to take advantage of her position. It’s frustrating for me to see how my friend and someone she cares about both suffer from something as stupid as a misunderstanding, especially when it’s clear your feelings are mutual. Just, please. Let her talk to you again. She’s a fucking idiot, but please give her one last chance.”

Maybe she was right. The lack of communication between herself and Jihyo didn’t give her a chance to even understand the situation they’d put themselves in. Being as stuck as she was, she could handle listening to her again. She needed to listen to her again.

“How do I talk to her?” Momo hesitated.

“Don’t seek her out. Let her come to you. You’ve suffered enough as it is.” And she said it so sincerely, Momo couldn’t help but feel a little sad.

“My friend is waiting for me outside.” Momo mentioned, trying to end the conversation before she felt like crying again.

“Alright. You go get some rest now, Momo. Try not to think about this too much.” Ms. Im said.

Though Sana was probaby impatiently waiting for her and wondering what on earth must be going on, Momo felt the need to show Ms. Im her appreciation towards what she just did.

“Thank you.” She said, standing up from her seat.

The professor politely returned her a warm smile and a nod as she was dismissed.

She found Sana sitting on one of the benches at the park right outside the building, squinting at her phone. She hated the fact that she had to make her wait for so long, but to her pleasant surprise, she had managed to find a way to entertain herself, as she would usually do. Momo stepped in front of her, blocking the sun and casting her shadow on her to get her attention. Sana looked up from her phone with her still-squinting eyes.

“Ah, Momo.” She said as she stood up quickly, ready to get going. “Was everything alright?”

For a second, Momo doubted whether or not Sana had noticed she had been crying. If she had, she was grateful she hadn’t brought it up.

“Yeah, I can explain later.”

“Okay, then.” Sana said, smiling brightly with her eyes. “Now let’s please go because I think I left the ice cream on the counter and at this point I’m not sure if it can be saved from further melting down into a house flood.”

Momo couldn’t help but let out a cackle at Sana’s very clearly-thoughtout-attempt-at-cheering-her-up of a comment. Just like they always did, Momo would continue to listen to Sana’s happy rambles as they walked together back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope that was alright. there's still a lot more in stock, but for now, thanks for reading :)


	10. Illusion of Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how hard she might try to neglect her feelings, Momo doesn't stand a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. i'm back.  
> first of all, i really don't like making people wait, so i apologise for the slight absence. there were so many times i wanted to get this chapter done so i could upload it but simply couldn't. hopefully i won't have as much work in the future.  
> on the bright side, here's a longer chapter to make up for the wait, and a much better one, i promise!  
> enough talking. enjoy!! ^_^

“I can’t, I’m late.” Momo grumbled through her toothpaste-covered mouth, struggling to hold her toothbrush through gritted teeth as she forced the zipper on her bag to shut from where it had been stuck.

From the other side of the room, Sana stood clueless in front of the kitchen table with a bunch of documents sprawled out before her, trying her hardest to make sense of them to no end. She had asked Momo to _please_ help her figure them out, since her Korean was better than hers. The thing was, this was the very moment Momo could _not_ help—this moment being the one where she was running later than ever, and that was saying something. If she had the time, she’d laugh at Sana and say _I told you so_ , remembering all the times she had insisted on just getting on with it and go through them when she had the time to help her, already predicting something like this might happen. But she didn’t have the time for it. And her first class had started a minute ago. Some toothpaste dripped out of her mouth in an attempt to run across the room, and that was her sign to finish brushing her teeth in her actual bathroom so she could finally wash her face and leave. She heard Sana complain again about something else in the other room. Something about numbers. She granted herself a split second to look in the mirror, her hair was all a mess and unwashed, she had dark circles under her eyes and her shirt had been the same one she had worn for three days straight.

“Are you staying at the library today?” She heard Sana say as she rushed past her to pick some energy bars from the bottom cabinet. Sana, lucky as ever, had a whole week off. Times like this made her wish she never switched majors. And perhaps a few other things, too.

“Dunno. Depends.” Momo dashed passed her.

“Please, when you’re finished, come help me with this.” Sana stressed.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a call.” She announced as she looked for her keys somewhere around their entrance, finding them all tangled up to some earphones that she decided to take with her too. A faint _thanks_ could be heard, but only after Momo had shut the door and rushed outside praying she’d get on the bus in time.

Class before eleven should be filed illegal, she thought. Still, she didn’t know who she had to thank for the fact that Ms. Kang didn’t care if you were late. At this rate, she’d be lucky if she made it to the last five minutes of the lecture. Not a problem, though. Classical Politics wasn’t exactly in her _extreme_ interests.

To Momo’s own surprise, Ms. Kang had arrived there late herself, meaning she hadn’t missed what would’ve been most of the class. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or upset.

These past few days, the attention she had given her worries had directed to other completely superficial things. Without the stress of her boss on her back or the uncertainty of who she might have to cover for, suddenly she felt lighter. And she never knew having free time on Friday afternoons could feel so good.

It had become a habit to stare out the window every single Classical Politics lecture. She had to admit she did feel a bit sorry for Ms. Kang, but it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t stimulate a single student in her class to even look directly at her. When the bell dismissed the class, she must’ve still been caught in her little trance, because when she thought she heard her name being called again, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Ms. Kang towered over her with a book in hand.

“It feels a bit weird to ask you this, actually,”The professor started. It was safe to say Momo was confused _._ “You haven’t paid attention to a single one of my classes, but your ethics professor keeps telling everyone in our department how you’re her best student.”

Momo still looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes, trying to make sense of what on earth she was saying. Her ethics professor was Jihyo. Ms. Kang wavered the book in her hands, taking a short look at it.

“Anyway. She gave me this book. I won’t be seeing her for the rest of the week so I figured since you have class with her later you could hand it back to her.”

Momo took the book she was given without time to process the information. The book was Sam Harris’ _Free Will_. She was left dumbfounded as she watched her professor walk back to her seat.

_Well fuck._

Once, having an excuse to get close to Jihyo would have set her heart to pounding. Now it did too, only that it did for a whole different reason. Was it best to just get it over with? Perhaps if she found her in her office right now she’d use the excuse of running late for class in case Ms. Park had planned to prolong her stay.

In her hands was the book Ms. Kang had given her, belonging to Jihyo. It was bent around the edges, probably from having been read over and over again. When she peeked inside, she noticed it was also scribbled with notes. They were Ms. Park’s notes, she knew from the charming handwriting that had covered her marked papers and exams so many times. Momo would always be excited to read the more personal notes, the ones she might find at the end of some of the witty remarks she’d sneak in her essays, or even test answers. _You think you’re funny?,_ Ms. Park had once written, followed by a winking happy face, in response to some snappy retort Momo had made to a test question. She’d pretend to be bothered by them, but deep down Momo knew she loved them. The notes on the book’s preface didn’t spark the playful attitude that the ones she got on her papers did. Weirdly, reading such personal annotations felt like stepping into a deeper plane of intimacy, like she could see what went through her mind while reading such a profound metaphysical analysis. Momo loved the illusion of intimacy she shared with her.

She wouldn’t quite take it as far as calling it idolatry, but the sentiment she felt towards Ms. Park was not far from admiration. Even when feeling threatened by her, —humiliated, even—, the feeling of adoration simply wouldn’t go away. Deep down it made her feel a bit pathetic, but she wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Having reduced herself to such a pitiful state of dependance seemed… _wrong_. Not right, at the very least. But that’s not what it was. Momo could swear reality wasn’t at all like that, and what Sana says about Ms. Park being a bitch… it just _couldn’t_ be. She wasn’t sure if the truth was what she wished for deep down, but out of wilful ignorance, she decided the truth could be what she made it.

Around ten minutes must have passed, and Momo still found herself caught up in reading every annotation she found on the corners of each page, marked down in blue ink and styled in that handwriting that made her feel closer to her. Momo found herself in a position of extreme atheism, but Lord forgive her for finding Ms. Park’s big words and deep reflections hot as fuck. She hadn’t even read the book to begin with.

Unless she wanted to find herself in the compromising situation of a painfully awkward interaction, now was the time to look for her in her office. She knew the way by heart now, and her legs took her with no need for her mind to guide her. It always takes her by surprise, how her heart beats faster every time she sees her. She spotted her from a distance. The door was slightly ajar. As always, she looked so concentrated, so focused on what she was doing. Just like any other time she might have found her when she was grading papers. One of them might even be her own. There was a pile of sheets as tall as her shoulders from where she was sitting, but no matter how much work she had, she’d always find a way to hand everything back in time. Momo didn’t shy away from studying her, taking a good look now that she could. Ms. Park’s pantsuit jacket was hung over her chair, and the white button-up shirt she wore stretched around her chest the way it did that night at the club. It still made Momo’s mouth water.

She stepped closer, full of apprehension, knocking twice on the door just like she’d always done in the past. Ms. Park didn’t look up, but a reserved _come in_ granted her entrance. When she let herself in, Ms. Park lifted her gaze to meet hers. All of a sudden, her eyes widened as she sat up straight, putting away what she had been doing.

“Momo.” She greeted.

Momo walked towards her desk with her book in hand. She wanted to make matters quick.

“Ms. Kang told me to give this to you.” She said, ready to turn away as soon as the book touched her hands.

“Oh,” She said, reaching for it and turning it around to face her so she could read its title. “Right, I gave this to her ages ago.”

Momo just stood there. She didn’t quite know what to say. Before blurting out something stupid, Jihyo saved her.

“Have you read this?” She asked, looking up at her from her seat. She grabbed the book in one hand, prompting Momo to look at it, but all she could see was the hurt expression on her face.

Momo shook her head.

“No? I would’ve thought you had. It fits the way you think.” She said, taking a look at the cover as she lightly touched over the damaged fold at the corner. “Do you want to take it with you?”

It was quite possible her answers parted from her inability to say no. Momo accepted her offer.

“I think you’ll love it, Momo.”

There it was, that illusion of intimacy again, hiding at the mention of her name at the end of her sentence. Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to say her name? The way it dripped from her lips was so soft and delicate it only made her want to hear it again. Momo took the book with both hands. She tried a faint _thank you_ but it wouldn’t pass her lips. Instead, Jihyo did it for her.

“Thanks for bringing the book.”

“Thanks for lending it to me.” She managed to say.

—

Even after leaving, the sight of Jihyo’s hurt expression wouldn’t abandon her mind. When she had talked to her back in her office, her voice had been soft, like she feared something might break if she raised it any higher. The little bit of hope that consumed Momo was enough to tell her that it might’ve been a sign of her regret. _Is regret enough?_

It wasn’t exactly unusual of her to try her best to avoid people on her way to class, believing it would shield her from any type of anxiety that might come with someone trying to talk to her; especially when it came to her final class of the day, when what she wanted more than anything was to leave so she could get home as quick as possible. She took three different classes with Ms. Park: History of Philosophy, Ethics and Political Philosophy. Conveniently enough, her last class was Political Philosophy. With Ms. Park. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, this incident had been the most excitement she’d had in months. In her own little weird way, it was like it had brought her out of her boredom. Sana would’ve slapped her for saying that.

She still had the book in her hands when she walked in the class, stepping towards what had now become her usual seat in the back row. When once she might’ve patiently waited for Ms. Park to enter the class, now she stepped into her own personal bubble and began reading. Her personal bubble must’ve been far more effective than she thought, because only when she looked up did she realise Ms. Park was already in the class, speaking. Unable to concentrate on the book with the noise around her, she decided to pay attention. Ms. Park took her pantsuit jacket off again before leading herself towards her chair, hanging it on the top rail.

“I graded your papers,” She announced once she made sure her jacket wouldn’t slide off, “I’ll hand them back and we’ll go over them again, since some of you didn’t do as well. Let me say, though,” She began returning some of the essays, “that this has probably been the easiest paper you’ve ever written, and it won’t get any easier than this.”

It was on a comparison between John Locke and Thomas Hobbes. Momo remembered writing it on her laptop late at night, from memory. She wasn’t expecting to pass, and she no longer cared for making Ms. Park proud—not as much as she did, anyway, so she continued skimming through the pages of her new book, finding it much more interesting than whatever she had to say. It was only when she started getting invested in her lecture that she felt someone approach her. Her paper landed in front of her. She looked up to see it had been Ms. Park who had left it there.

“Good job.” She praised, turning around to wander off towards the next person.

Something didn’t quite add up. She was _positive_ there was no way of saving that essay from failing. Momo took the double-sided sheet of paper and gaped at her mark, written on the topright corner with red ink, next to her name. Ms. Park had rounded up her mark from an 83 to a 90. But what really caught her attention was the note beside her grade.

_See me in my office after class._

Her heart stopped. She had to take a second to read it again to make sure it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. But it _was_ there, written in her charming handwriting that never seemed to leave her alone. The whole thing only added confusion to her close-to-collapsing brain. She couldn’t even understand what drove her to round up her mark like that. Surely she wasn’t allowed to do that.

Momo put the essay down and listened. She watched Ms. Park, who continued with her class as if nothing happened. Though Momo listened, she didn’t hear anything she didn’t already know. Sure, she hadn’t got a full score on her paper, but she wasn’t even expecting to pass, having considered how carelessly she finished it the night before, and the only reason she didn’t put in more effort was because she simply didn’t want to. Part of her wasn’t sure how to feel about falling back into her old apathetic habits. Maybe she did feel slightly disappointed, but not enough to change again.

Someone in her class had asked a question. Someone stupid, Momo thought. She’d never spoken to him before and definitely wasn’t planning on initiating any conversations with him any time soon. To be frank, she had a hard time believing how he got this far without cheating through every single test. And he’d _always_ stare at Jihyo. It was disgusting how he didn’t even make an effort to be discreet about it, it was enough for the whole class to know about it. Surely he’d only asked the question to get closer to her. She hated the way Ms. Park showed so much interest in helping a helpless student. _She should listen to those who actually have something interesting to say._

Leaning forward on helpless student’s side of the desk, Jihyo answered him, “Good question, Seojun. Well, initially Locke might say everyone has a chance at their natural rights, but if someone violates these rights and, say, kills someone, he argues that person deserves equal treatment as punishment.”

Oh, this was new. When did Jihyo start calling students by their first names? She thought _she_ was the only one who ever got that treatment.

“So according to Locke, no one has the right to kill me because I have a right to life, but if I kill someone then I can get killed?”

 _Are you dumb? That’s exactly what she just said_ , Momo thought. _Just pay attention instead of asking so many questions, shithead._

“As a punishment, yes.” Jihyo responded.

“Alright. Thanks, Ms. Park.” He said, with a tone intentioned to sound charming but only sounded like a mockery. It must have been quite a show for him, to have Ms. Park so close.

She smiled at him. _With her eyes_. Momo tried to ignore the feeling of her blood boiling under her skin. She convinced herself she wasn’t interested in the class anymore, so she opened her bookonce again and continued reading. But that Seojun guy would _not_ stop asking questions. By now it was obvious he was only doing it to get Jihyo’s attention, and it was quite clear that all he managed was to make a fool of himself. She nearly felt sorry for him. If only he knew _she_ had had her all to herself one time.

It had been ages since a class took nearly as long to end. After half an hour of a long, painful stare at the clock above Ms. Park’s head, finally the bell rang to dismiss them. Something in the back of Momo’s head irked her; she was sure she was missing something. _Oh_. It was when she looked back down at her essay that she was reminded of her upcoming meeting in Ms. Park’s office. An odd sense of pride flushed over her at having momentarily forgotten about such an event. It took no time for the classroom to empty out, with Momo being one of the first ones to leave, having nothing to put away since she didn’t bother to take out her books nor her laptop to follow the class. The longer she walked away from the class, the more she could feel the nerves beginning to kick in. When she received Ms. Park’s note, all she felt was a tad of excitement to break routine, but what she experienced now was impatience. So many times she had gotten stressed for nothing, she wondered if Ms. Park had only called her for some class-related business. She hoped not. The corridor to her office had turned into a place of unpredictability. So many times Momo had found herself in front of that sight, doors on each side of the tall walls of her faculty’s building, her body knowing exactly how many steps it took to stop in front of the door to Ms. Park’s office. She stood still before the hallway, waiting. She didn’t know what for, but she did wait. And she was shook out of her stupor at the sight of Jihyo entering her office from afar. It had been a while since she last felt any sensations stronger than those of apathy, but she was feeling something now. What it was, she wasn’t quite sure. There was a knot in her throat that tightened the closer she got to that door, and her stomach felt like it was closing in. She was nervous, but she was also good at pretending she wasn’t, so she continued her path to the office. Unlike other times, the door had been closed shut this time. She hadn’t had a proper conversation with her since… well. This would be the first time she _really_ talked to her, but in a time where she needed her brain to put her thoughts in place, her mind had surrendered blank. There was no point in further stressing herself out.

She allowed herself the audacity to open the door without knocking, but when she found Ms. Park inside, she didn’t seem to care. She made sure to shut the door behind her as she carefully watched her professor, who had her head propped up by her hand in a fist, resting her elbow on her desk. Her gazed followed Momo without lifting herself from her seat. She looked _tired_.

“Make yourself comfortable.” She said from her seat, directing her gaze to the chair settled opposite her. The tone she used shook Momo out of her freshly obtained confidence.

Momo cleared her throat, unsure of what to say.

Ms. Park lifted her head from her knuckles, looking down at her. “I see you’ve been enjoying the book,” She pointed at her hands with a half nod, where Momo still tightly held onto the copy she had received from her earlier, “You’ve been so into it you barely paid attention in class.”

“Yes, well…”

Momo understood she had meant that bit of small talk as an icebreaker, but she’d much prefer if she’d just cut to the chase. The tension in the room grew heavier by the minute, and Momo wasn’t all that sure she wouldn’t suffocate in it if she didn’t say something soon. Her eyes searched around the room, unable to settle on Ms. Park’s burning stare. She resorted to look down at her lap, where she played with the edges of her book. A piece of one of the cover’s edges had fallen off from fidgeting with it so often.

“I have your clothes.” Ms. Park finally said.

It took a moment for Momo to understand what she was talking about, but she figured out she meant the clothes she had left at her house that night before her final. Her cheeks reddened at the embarrassment.

“Is this what you called me for?” Momo protested, still looking down.

“This, and other things.” She reached for a paper bag behind her, most likely containing her clothes, “They’ve all been washed for you.”

Momo just took the bag from her hands, too intimidated to say anything. There was a pause where they both looked at each other, and she was sure they had the same thoughts coursing through their minds. After what felt like an eternity, Jihyo spoke again.

“Do you regret what happened?”

The question left a deafening silence in the air. In no way was Momo expecting to hear her mention what had happened. She didn’t directly reference their encounter, but neither of them was stupid enough to pretend like they didn’t know what they were talking about. Still, talk of that night where Jihyo had left her after fucking her senseless reduced Momo to speechlessness, and Ms. Park’s cutting stare was not providing any help. There was no way she could’ve missed her gulp.

“I would’ve talked to you about this sooner but I didn’t have the time. I think matters were left… unattended.” Ms. Park’s words had softened at the sight of Momo’s tension.

“I…” Momo had so much to say, yet nothing seemed to cross her lips.

“Tell me how you feel, Momo. Please.”

There it was again, that same expression from before. She could tell she was _hurt_. Jihyo’s eyebrows furrowed as she waited for a response, unconsciously leaning forward. Momo had to take a second to breathe.

“Confused. I feel confused.” She finally said. She watched carefully as Ms. Park stared back at her. It was like every word took too much effort to pronounce. She patiently waited as her professor took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she brought her hand to her face, ready to say something.

“There’s so much I want to talk about, Momo. So much.” When she talked, she could barely land her eyes on Momo’s for more than three consecutive seconds. “I feel like everything I’m going to say might be taken the wrong way.”

“Try.” Momo insisted, dryly.

After another deep breath through her nose, Jihyo said, “I crossed a line. Ever since we started to get to know each other better, there were times I forgot you were my student. I felt like I was talking to a friend. It’s okay if you disagree, but I really felt like we made a connection.”

As much as she tried resisting, Momo still felt captivated by what she had to say, like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, eagerly awaiting what might happen.

“And being an ethics professor, I should be able to judge these matters for myself. But I can’t. I don’t know right from wrong and I feel like the only option is to rely on my instincts. When we began talking and texting each other regularly, already I felt like I was walking on thin ice. I kept forgetting I was your professor, I saw you as an equal instead of someone who had to hurry up and hand in their papers on time. But then something else came into play. Then I began taking more time to look at you whenever you were around, and I noticed myself smiling wider when you talked to me. I thought if I hoped for it hard enough, no feelings would be awakened in me. I really tried, but there you were. I woke up every morning excited to have you in my class. Every day at home I prepared my lessons keeping you in mind, thinking, _Momo will like it if I mention this_ , or, _this will be too easy for her_. I silently prayed you’d participate in class only to hear the sound of your voice for a little while longer. I began feeling like I wanted to take care of you, like I wanted you to know you’d be safe with me. But then of course I blew it.  
“You might have made that assumption of me by now, but I am a person who doesn’t like being… improper. I don’t like it if I feel like I’m doing things the wrong way, and I hate the feeling of being judged. It rarely ever happens, because I’m usually the one in control, but the second I feel doubtful about something, I fear I’ve made a mistake. And mistakes aren’t good. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. What even is it that I’m doing? I wish someone could tell me. I have no fucking clue myself. It’s like I’m split in two, and my deepest worries don’t even come from there. What really scared me was hurting you. I caught myself treating you better than other students, and when I got caught off guard, I felt so guilty that i thought the best solution would be to rip the band-aid all at once and fully eliminate any sort of special treatment. But that’s why I say I feel split in two, because there were times where I would forget about all that and did what felt good. What happened in that private room where you took me felt good in the moment. I have no excuse for leaving without an explanation. Momo, it’s important you know that. I need you to be aware that I’m also prone to make mistakes and you don’t always have to forgive me for them. It’s just… the student-teacher situation… It’s not about what they could say to me, but what they could say to you. What if the wrong person finds out about this? What if _you_ get in trouble? What if they discredit all your hard work because of _this_?  
“I just… I’m so worried. All the time. But right now I want nothing more than to have you in my arms and make sure you know it will be okay. I mean it. And you’re in your right to feel hate towards me. In fact, I _want_ you to hate me, I want you to realise what I’ve done. Please know it’s okay if you never want to speak to me anymore, we can forget this ever happened.”

None of them could pretend to ignore the cracks in her voice. She sounded too heartbroken for that. Momo could see how her eyes turned red and a tear threatened to stream down her cheek. The tightness in her chest only narrowed down at the sight. When Momo thought Jihyo wouldn’t have given it any thought at all, the reality was that there was so much to unpack, and they were both as hurt about it. Momo sat stiff in her seat trying to mind the thousand things she’d like to say. Instead, she could only manage one.

“I’ve missed you.”

And when she heard herself say it, she couldn’t help but break into tears. There was no point in holding them back any longer, she wouldn’t be able to even if she tried. When she looked up again, she realised she’d never seen Jihyo so vulnerable in her life. Her chin quivered as she attempted to speak, but she looked like she was trying to stop herself from sobbing.

Momo wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it. If you want me, just fucking say it.”

Jihyo stared back at her, her eyes so sad they broke her heart. She sat still, like she was petrified of making any more mistakes. And when she spoke, her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I want you.”

It was so silent, so delicate, but it was enough. Momo found herself possessed by a strange giddy courage to get up from her seat and walk over to where Jihyo was sitting, her eyes burning through her body as her gaze followed her steps. She wasn’t thinking, she didn’t know right from wrong, all she was doing was following her instincts. Momo got closer to her before straddling her lap, and in no more than a desperate second, she kissed her. She pressed her lips on hers as hard as she could because it _felt right_. She didn’t care about anyone else. _Who gave a shit?_ They kissed each other, and Momo panted into the kiss when she felt Jihyo’s arms wrap around her in a hug. She tilted her head to get closer into her, opening her mouth to slide her tongue into hers. She could taste the salt of her tears on her lips, but it felt so, so good. Jihyo’s lips were the softest she’d ever felt, and her touch made her feel desired above anything else. Momo pressed herself against her chest, being welcomed by the soft strokes of Jihyo’s hands on her back. All this time, she’d had no idea how much she missed her, even if she’d only had her for a beat of time. Momo pulled her mouth away from hers to look at her again. Even after crying, even after such a deep kiss, she still looked perfect. There was sunlight that shone through her office’s window, and Momo thanked the sky for being generous enough to make Jihyo’s soft skin shine like that. Jihyo brought her hand up to Momo’s chin, gently wiping her bottom lip with her thumb.

“You never answered my question.” She said. There was a hint of a smile on her lips.

“What’s that?”

“Do you regret what happened?”

Momo brought herself closer to her again, hating the pain in her voice, “For you, I’d do it a thousand times over.”

When she planted another kiss on her mouth, she made sure they were speaking without words,just like they had done all those times before. In her kiss she told her, _I mean it_. And that, she was sure Jihyo knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i admit that was quite a ride even for me. but! there is still a lot more to come, so if you're still enjoying this, thank you for sticking with the story!  
> if you have any questions, concerns, existential crises you want to share, feel free to leave them in the comments, i really love reading what you have to say :)


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